He's on the ragged edge. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. The kindly faced landlady had failed to catch his name, and said he was a tall, handsome gentleman with a great black mustache. Great vistas of history opened, and she and her aunt were near reverting to the primitive and passionate and entirely indecorous arboreal—were swinging from branches by the arms, and really going on quite dreadfully—when their arrival at the Palsworthys’ happily checked this play of fancy, and brought Ann Veronica back to the exigencies of the wrappered life again.
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