" Sheppard's name operated like magic on the crowd. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. I shall charge you five per cent. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers.
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