"What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. She had come across the wicked South Seas which were still infested with cannibals; she had seen drunkenness and called men beachcombers; who was this moment as innocent as a babe, and in the next uttered some bitter wisdom it had taken a thousand years of philosophy to evolve. I still get sinus infections with fever all the time, she says it has been that way since I was a baby. Someday I'll take you down there and have them rig up the coconut dance for you. “I have made no progress with my work,” she said slowly, “and the money was gone. He’s—He lives in a world of possibilities outside your imagination.
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