“Please search everywhere,” she said. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. 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. She held out both her hands. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. Let's get one idea into our heads. But I mean to have them. "Don't ask me about it now. But I can easily bring in a sing-song girl to play for you.
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