“I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine. She floundered deep. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. Her specialty is the central thing in life, it is life itself, the warmth of life, sex—and love. It comforts him when he is most forlorn.
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