’ She fairly pushed at Gerald, who grinned and gave in, moving back to the still open door. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. “Neither Sydney nor I would think of such a thing. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. She is called Madame Ibstock, you understand. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty.
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