"Well, how goes it?" he asked. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. The boat was set free, and the men resumed their seats. She entered quietly and padded up to her shared bedroom. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time. ” He bent and kissed her hair and paused, and then forced his attention back to the map. “Even Katy Pfister can’t touch you now. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. “Katy Pfister. A sense of impending disaster was upon him.
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