The summons was instantly answered by a shop-boy. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. Anna followed her finger, and looked back into her sister’s face. She saw his eyes glaze over. "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!…. Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony. “You are really a good Samaritan,” she declared.
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