’ ‘Eh bien? And so?’ ‘He says as how he’s going to take you with him to France with his new wife. Light the lantern. ’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. The men have never had so much work to do since they banded. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. He was snoring stupidly. ‘Keep still, for God’s sake! Hilary will send him off all right and tight, never fear. When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement.
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