“Why?” he asked, suavely. "Miss Enschede was born on an island in the South Seas. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. Get the pole out of your ass. She screamed involuntarily—she had never in her life screamed before—and then she began to wriggle and fight like a frightened animal against the men who were holding her. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin.
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