Yours truly,
Walter Toth
Culver, as he finished, looked out the open door and out to sea with a troubled mind. He could not say exactly what bothered him; but something, he felt, was wrong in the letter.
He began to read it again.
“Tell Koba how good she is,” pleaded the girl.
“H-m-m!” murmured Culver.
“Aie-e-e! Aie-e-e!” shrilled Koba. “You are a w*******g too!”
She went to the door and flung herself down on the deck in the full glare of the sun with her eyes closed. Presently she forgot her anger and was smiling, contented by the burning heat.
The eyes of Culver had returned to the bottom of the letter. It was there that the words had seemed to go wrong. He had searched too many literary documents, examining literary style, not to be aware when the language went off tune a little
