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awful artificial lightning. We live in a world of noise. By day the blinding reflection of the sun on sand, pains my eyes till my head throbs. But how sweet are the stolen hours of leisure! I swim. I surf, or glide over coloured reefs on an outrigger. It's a pleasure & a relaxation. The hour is late, but to avoid broken sleep I'll sit up to await visitors.

I've just finished my reply to Lol's letter. It's incumbent on him now to explain a few things that has offended me. And I'll stall writing Audrey until then.

I've no blue paper to add romance to this letter. But I enclose a sprig of seed-pods that may add a little

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