"What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. I must obey. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. In response to an almost imperative gesture from the nurse, Anna laid her hand upon his. You could return to civilization and have a good time all the rest of your days.
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