’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. 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. Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person.
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