‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. She got a bun and some cocoa in the little refreshment-room, and then wandered through the galleries up-stairs, crowded with Polynesian idols and Polynesian dancinggarments, and all the simple immodest accessories to life in Polynesia, to a seat among the mummies. . " "My turn comes before yours, Sir," interposed his better half. And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room.
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