’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. " "It ought to be; it cost enough to get it here," said the Scot, ruefully. S.
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