B. Not then. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game. A small voice greeted her, hissing. . Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. “It looks all right,” said Capes. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away.
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