” Miss Pellissier stiffened visibly. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. For a few minutes all was silent. “It’s all right,” he said, reassuringly to the inquirer without. He seemed to do ten things before she could think to do one, to leap upon her and take possession. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. This mitigated her remorse enormously.
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