I won't have a beachcomber on the island. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk. She seemed to assume that it must certainly be something she had said. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. “But your hair,” he gasped.
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