‘Ah. He removed his cigarette from his lips and waved it gently in the air. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. A Madame Valade and her husband. .
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