"What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. ” Lucy gestured to the rough plywood floor. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own. He savored the last solo, the coda. She pulled her veil down, and he knew that silence was best. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves.
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