She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. ” Lucy put her hand to her heart and pulled one of her kinky curls straight. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut.
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