" His daughter, however, anticipated him. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. ‘You do not use your head, Emile,’ she said flatly. “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. “You are wrong! I did not think you thought such things. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying.
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