\"What did you think of Poltergeist, John?\" She tried to engage him in conversation as Mark's music blared from the van's stereo system. ‘Seems to me, missie, as you’re as dangerous a female as I’m like to see. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. ” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared. ‘Yes, very rude,’ agreed the major. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. She repeated this breathlessly. Of course Nicholas was bound to give her a French name.
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