Occasionally he relit his pipe. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. One could enter and leave by proa, but nothing with a keel could cross the coral gate. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us. " "Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with startling eagerness.
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