During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. She found her foster father and Mike still awake, playing high stakes UNO at the dimly lit kitchen table. Neither the manners, the looks, nor the attire of these gentlemen prepossessed Mrs. You understand. . They’re all wonderful cooks. . “But I wish,” she said, “I had some idea what I was really up to. But the factor of overriding interest is that they have all met and approved the said imposters. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money.
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