" CHAPTER XI. ’ ‘She behaved like a madwoman,’ Hilary declared roundly. Only in the sunshine; they would not answer my whistle on cloudy days. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. Gerald perhaps would know how to find him. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. All three, then, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter.
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