“He couldn’t look me in the face and say it,” said Ann Veronica. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled.
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