It was, in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than three or four times a year, only then when they had to. She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 09-09-2024 00:35:34
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