” “I borrowed it,” said Ann Veronica in a casual tone, with white despair in her heart. Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere. Pausing at each door on the landing, Jack placed his ear to the keyhole, and listened intently. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Q. She foraged about in her mind for some satisfying equivalent which would express in English this gurgling drone the Chinese called a language.
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