She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. And when she went to sleep, then always Capes became the novel and wonderful guest of her dreams.
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