Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. He laughed. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. "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!…. But on Sunday he had been obliged to attend to certain matters for the nuns. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases.
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