I’d need to be out of my senses. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. " The spinster had no retort to offer such directness. “I am sorry,” he said slowly. "To-morrow it will be mine. From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses.
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