Then the storm broke. I hated him. You know you do, Annabel. No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea. From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses. At the bottom of the trunk I found two of my mother's dresses.
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