" Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand. She was the actress his whim had chosen to play a passive part. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. THIS, this glissade, would be damned scoundrelism. She felt herself shaking again. That is all I ask. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. But I am always afraid that he may get in while I am away.
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