Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. In a moment they were in the street outside. “Lucy, my brother is home and I borrowed the cash from him. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. He looked at her guiltily. He moved slightly, and she went on, with a slight catching of her breath: “It’s a bother and disturbance, but you see—” She had to go through with it now, because she could think of nothing but her preconceived words. For a long time neither spoke again. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. Oh dear!—oh dear! Be careful of him," she added to her husband, "and get it over quickly, or never expect to see me again. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. ” She was silent.
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