Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. "I have no sympathy," replied Prudence, "with a man who deliberately fuddles himself with strong drink. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. Above the housetops it was different. Her heartbeat quickened.
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