She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. My friend the doctor suspected it, and so do I. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. She had lost it. ” She agreed. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she hated her island. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. ‘You do not use your head, Emile,’ she said flatly.
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