The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. Wood fared still worse. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. She taught him how to sail a proa, how to hack open a milk-coconut, how to relish bamboo sprouts. A lesson learned. "My mother is avenged.
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