The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. Shari draped herself lazily upon her unmade bed. " "What's he know about copra and native talk?" "Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough. She shook her head. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. “I see the pointer,” she said.
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