ToC In an incredibly short space of time,—for her anxiety lent wings to her feet,— Mrs. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. Then it came to her with a shock, as an extraordinary oversight, that she could never tell Manning about Ramage—never. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre.
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