With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. In other respects, they were equally indecorous and offensive. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. They’ve just got to keep white. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. ’ She raised the pistol.
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