" "That was my doing, dearest," urged the carpenter; "I was afraid if you saw her that some such scene as this might occur. ” “I’m sorry. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls. ‘What Frenchman would that be, missie? We ain’t let no one escape. Have you been inhaling the fumes inside Missy’s car?” She had pushed the exact right button. " He departed, musing. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms.
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