Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. It’s not a bit of good pretending there’s any Higher Truth or wonderful principle in this business. “What are your objections?” she said. The coconut plantation covered the west side. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. ” She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could not see her face.
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