“I don’t know, John. I’ll wait my whole life!” He cried. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. She had to think of something fast, or her reaction would start to make believers out of everyone. Wood trembled. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming.
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