The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. She wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. "I have proofs to the contrary," replied Kneebone. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.
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