"Miss Enschede was born on an island in the South Seas. Wait a little; rest. I'll bet you've been in Hong-Kong these two weeks already, and never a line to me. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. A small voice greeted her, hissing. It forbids—all sorts of things. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's.
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