I don’t want to bother you, of course. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. He would see this sister. Must be plenty of work for you to do. From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses. Playing became a way of escape. “What do you mean?” she asked.
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