Ah Cum was not a sailor, but he knew his water-front. ‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. ” She said to them, raising her head to speak, her voice unsteady. She gave her a wink when John had turned to ask Mark if Lucy could ride home with them. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise.
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