She was pensive and thoughtful. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. "Will he live?" asked Ruth. Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. One is always familiar with the business of one’s neighbours.
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