But I was portentous, I can assure you. It was bare of any furnishings. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind.
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