But some little distance behind him, someone had come out from the shadow of the building and, seeing the Frenchman reappear, darted back again as quickly. The coconut plantation covered the west side. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. “Were you thinking of private apartments, a boarding-house or an hotel?” she asked. Their minds are turned against him. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. ‘As I said, a mistake.
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