He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. And they never talked of anything at all, never discussed, never even encouraged gossip. “I have a message from your sister. He had said so. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly.
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