He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. He liked to draw her in, and she did her best to talk. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. And now she was witnessing or observing the complicated machinery of civilization through which they had come, at length to land on the beach of her island. Her neck was smeared with red and remorse flooded him.
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