" The spinsters stared at her blankly. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. “If I am to turn you into a vampire, she cannot know. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. “You must tell me the truth, please. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. I will write to your major, and you will send the letter very quickly.
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