The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red corpuscle. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. She liked to cook even though normal food was not nourishing to her. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. And for many years, that was the way it was. Her father had determined on a new line. Mr.
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