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Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. Then he paused. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. " "What's he know about copra and native talk?" "Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. ‘The wretch said nothing to anyone.

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