"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!…. Sheppard, you mean, Sir," interrupted his wife, ironically. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. "Release your prisoner," continued Wood, "or the window is opened. I don’t feel it.
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