"How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. He changed his mind however, and simply motioned to her to proceed. This species of madness cannot properly be attributed to his illness, though its accent might be. We all have to kow-tow to that. “I think,” she said, “that I would rather not have anything to say about that man. The devil is on top, not below. “I mean REALLY independent. ” So they talked on whilst supper was served, falling easily into the spirit of the place, and yet both of them conscious of some new thing underlying the gaiety of their tongues and manner.
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