Part 8 “Why should I ever come back?” she said to herself, as she went down the staircase. It was clear it must be to-morrow. He was ruffled, and his ears were red, no doubt from some adjacent controversy. ’ ‘Of course she could not have known to whom they belonged. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again.
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