?” she asked. Anyhow, that is how things are. “When are you going away?” He asked. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped before in his life. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son.
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