He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. As he lay on his back, he fancied himself gradually slipping off the platform. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. Quite right. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. It seemed to emanate from the back of the house.
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