168 < 20 > HISTORY OF AN ABDUCTION She had not seen him for hundreds of years. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Before it is too late. Ladies with weapon’s on ’em. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. My boys are all Sandwich Island born. Pull over there.
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