He whispered in her ear. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. ’ ‘Precisely,’ Gerald repeated. He uttered a short laugh. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning.
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