“It was perhaps my fault. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Melusine was unable to repulse him—even had she tried. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. . You shall hear from me to-morrow. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding.
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