The life of a girl presented itself to her as something happy and heedless and unthinking, yet really guided and controlled by others, and going on amidst unsuspected screens and concealments. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. ’ ‘Get going, then,’ Trodger told his men. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared.
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