She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. The quarry had passed out into the open sea. "By George!" he exclaimed.
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