“I wish. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. ‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. " "I can avenge her," cried Jack in a terrible tone. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. What'll we call him—Rollo?"—ironically. Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. He dashed against the screen door before she could catch him and made the veranda. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me.
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