“We can be alone?” She inquired. "Ja," replied the skipper. “Pray accept my apologies. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. “Good-bye,” he said earnestly. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. "It is droll," he said. Things seem to come rather easily.
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