"How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. He jumped out of the car. ’ Lucilla burst into laughter and clapped her hands. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. Kneebone made his appearance.
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