“Think of the mockery!” she said. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. The settlement was on the middle west coast. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. There would be no mercy in this man. He had bled everywhere, but she had struck when the opportunity was ripe. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger.
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