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Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. What is your father's business?" The question was an impertinence, but Ruth was not aware of that. ‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. ” “Never,” he exclaimed vehemently. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease.
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