We came on here at once. Unless they remind him now and then not to. Drummond had made an abominable mistake. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her.
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