Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. She's my mealticket. You won't refuse me, I'm sure; so no more need be said about the matter. ” She raked into the fire with the poker. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. I consented to become Mrs. She had heard the trader utter it many times. ” “Not worth the trouble. ” “Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends inside his coat.
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