A JOURNEY IN LATE SUMMER The cold of the water dispersed Francis' high sentiments. He shook himself ruefully, and looked back at the dim outline of the ship. The journey had fairly tired him, and it vexed him to see Starkie, the better swimmer, as active as ever. But by the time he had wrung his clothes and shaken the salt from his hair his spirits had returned, and with the other at his heel he clambered up the bank of red earth and made for the nearest houses. The darkening was already on the fall, and the roofs …
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