"An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. “My mind is full of confused stuff,” he said at length. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground. ” She paused. . Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut.
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