‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. " "You are an angel, I say," continued the poor maniac; "and my Jack would have been like you, if he had lived. ” She lifted steadfast eyes to him.
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