Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. He added, ‘Also others, but I don’t recall them. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Near the body, which, it will be surmised, was that of Abraham Mendez, two ruffianly personages were seated, quietly smoking, and bestowing no sort of attention upon the new-comers. Oh, to face facts! Gods! what a world it might be if people faced facts! Understanding! Understanding! There is no other salvation.
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