Aralarındaki bağ, daha da derinleşti. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. A remittance man. “Better state of mind,” she gasped. She was a very elegant young woman, slightly taller perhaps than her sister, and with an air of reserved strength underneath her quiet face and manner which Annabel may have lacked. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in.
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