Instead, her husband was probably wise. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. “I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. “I ought to have done anything! “What’s a man for? “Friendship!” He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the window. It was a haunted place. "I hope not. He was not, in truth, much of a ladies’ man. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. And I don't want anything of yours destroyed, Hoddy.
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