From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. Cathy chimed. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. Anywhere! Moonlight and music—pleasing, you know, but quite unnecessary.
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