The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. “It’s very late. He looked distant, irritated. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. \"Awww, sounds like puppy love to me.
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