[The Wings of the Morning by Louis Tracy]@TWC D-Link book
The Wings of the Morning

CHAPTER VII
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Our villa, however, is painfully leaky and draughty at present.

When asleep, the whole body is relaxed, and you are then most open to the attacks of cold or fever, in which case, Miss Deane, I shall be reluctantly obliged to dose you with a concoction of that tree there." He pointed to a neighboring cinchona, and Iris naturally asked why he selected that particular brand.
"Because it is quinine, not made up in nice little tabloids, but _au naturel_.

It will not be a bad plan if we prepare a strong infusion, and take a small quantity every morning on the excellent principle that prevention is better than cure." The girl laughed.
"Good gracious!" she said; "that reminds me--" But the words died away on her lips in sudden fright.

They were standing on the level plateau in front of the cave, well removed from the trees, and they could see distinctly on all sides, for the sun was sinking in a cloudless sky and the air was preternaturally clear, being free now from the tremulous haze of the hot hours.
Across the smooth expanse of sandy ground came the agonized shrieks of a startled bird--a large bird, it would seem--winging its way towards them with incredible swiftness, and uttering a succession of loud full-voiced notes of alarm.
Yet the strange thing was that not a bird was to be seen.

At that hour the ordinary feathered inhabitants of the island were quietly nestling among the branches preparatory to making a final selection of the night's resting-place.


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