Wood. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Thames did not try to cheer her. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. Ali, bu fırsatı yakalamak için hemen başvuruda bulundu ve burs kazandı. ’ Lucilla sat up.
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