But the aunt seized her in her arms and rocked with her. ‘Now then, my lad, you’re under arrest you are. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. She hoped to turn him off with the mention of Study Halls and detentions, as there were no such animals in 204 Martin’s world of high pressure academics. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied.
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