She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. It is like some accident. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone.
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