Unwilling to invite the merciless mosquitoes, they sat, while the gloaming settled into darkness, playing and singing melodies associated with other times.
Floracita felt sorry when the hour of separation for the night came.
Everything seemed so fearfully still, except the monotonous wash of the waves on the sea-shore! And as far as she could see the landscape by the light of a bright little moon-sickle, there was nothing but a thick screen of trees and shrubbery.

She groped her way to her sleeping-apartment, expecting to find Tulee there.

She had been there, and had left a little glimmering taper behind a screen, which threw a fantastic shadow on the ceiling, like a face with a monstrous nose.

It affected the excitable child like some kind of supernatural presence.
She crept to the window, and through the veil of the mosquito-bar she dimly saw the same thick wall of greenery.

Presently she espied a strange-looking long face peering out from its recesses.