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. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. She forced herself not to think of John. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. ‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room.
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