The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. The man’s passion became almost unbearable at the thought of losing her. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects.
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