“That’s HIM,” said Ann Veronica, in sound, idiomatic English. Mr. Earles strode into the waiting-room. ” There were no such girls and no such positions. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. 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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