"Miss Enschede was born on an island in the South Seas. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. ” “The good God!” Anna murmured, herself shaken with fear. "I think the natives saw you coming out of the lagoon, one dawn. " "Degrade herself," rejoined Jonathan, brutally.
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