" After making several ineffectual attempts to keep himself above water, Sir Rowland sunk, and his groans, which had become gradually fainter and fainter, were heard no more. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. "Let us sit here," she said, indicating the white sand bordering the lagoon; "and in a minute or two you will see something quite wonderful.
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