‘Did she call you that?’ asked Lucilla, amused. I can get into my clothes. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. . Unless it was a jewel or locket of some kind. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration.
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