She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. It was Martin, she could hear his heart beat. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Stanley. I never see them, they never even call.
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