” A spot of colour flared in Anna’s cheek as she glanced towards the speaker. White. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen. I know he is dead.
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