Mr. Poor Ben was not so fortunate. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. ” His face darkened. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage.
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