‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. You’re NOT to go. But she was not sure just how to reach it. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. You came out like an ant for your nuptial flight. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food.
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