“There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. You’re a lady. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. " "What's he know about copra and native talk?" "Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. " "All right.
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