” She laughed softly to herself. ‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Other times, the Buick was host to intense make-out sessions that lasted until the sun rose.
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