“It was inevitable,” he declared. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. But we waste time. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily.
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