In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. Spurling and Austin at their evening meal, with Caliban in attendance. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame. Just then—I was nervous.
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