She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. “To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have never seen either of you before in my life. . But this afternoon it discovered an unusual vein of irritability in her. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. " "No—no," laughed Jack.
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