\" Lucy said. ’ Tears glistened in her eyes. \"Thanks, Mike. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. “I must live, you know. ” Miss Pellissier stiffened visibly. ‘It’s my belief she is a nun. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there. But as the students sat about Miss Garvice’s tea-pot and drank tea or smoked cigarettes, the talk got away from Capes. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom.
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