"Never mind," replied the tapstress. ’ So saying, he pulled her forward, slipping her arms about his back. By the intense look of him, she guessed that she had just encountered for the first time the boy genius Martin Chen. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. So this was what it was all about. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre.
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