She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Arrived at the extremity of the building, he found that it overlooked the flat-roof of a house which, as far as he could judge in the darkness, lay at a depth of about twenty feet below. ’ Gerald grinned. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days.
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