It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. āIām damned if I see what you have to complain of,ā uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. Then she looked up at Brendon. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. ā She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast.
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