The hurricane had now reached its climax. I want him as my friend. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. "Let us sit here," she said, indicating the white sand bordering the lagoon; "and in a minute or two you will see something quite wonderful.
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