“That’s it,” she said. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. “I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. I'll try to think better of him in future. While he was thus employed, his nerves underwent a severe shock. It just made me mad to the boiling point.
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