"It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. He thrust out a rhetorical hand. Your fingers are even now as stiff as a schoolgirl’s. "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable.
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