But after Singapore she found herself enduing them with the characteristics of the heroes in the novels she had just read for the first time. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. It isn’t illusions—for us. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it. The hotel manager was expostulating and Ah Cum was replying by a series of expressive shrugs. If only this man had been her father! The world would have meant nothing; the island would have been wide enough. And don’t talk until we’re well out of earshot. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss.
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