She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. ‘He was our first commander, and a more stiff-necked—’ ‘Exactly so,’ concurred Lady Bicknacre. I sent my check for ten thousand; and it has cost me six thousand to find you. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. You are to come home.
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