” She said. Do you think that it makes for happiness to force oneself into the extravagant belief that love is the only thing in the world worth having, and to sacrifice for it independence, self-respect, one’s whole scheme of life. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. Egad! I shall make a good thing of it. But Sheppard was not to be silenced.
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