. . . She could see that he was curious, so she sat upon him and they rocked back and forth. " "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. ” He meditated. “P. ” His arms were around her.
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