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Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. E. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. “Quite right,” she said. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. " "So do I!" she cried; "for then you would have been really my brother. Annabel, I cannot believe it. Well, this was the side of the world where things like that happened. I ought to stay the night through; but I'm late now for an operation at the hospital.
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