Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. 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. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. ’ Mrs Chalkney lifted her brows.
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