But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. I told you that at the outset. But there was a face pressed to the glass. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. His blood would be sweet with it. So he was forced to shift and proceed at another angle, forgetting his promise to McClintock to be temperate. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. They WERE weird.
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