It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip. But that brought Mrs. Angelina's distress over these mischances was pathetic.
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