A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. She looked at the suitcase sadly and stashed it underneath her bed. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. “Those were good. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather.
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