No fear o' that. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Capes and her father stood up, and her father made a belated movement toward the curtain.
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