” Brendon laughed softly. "So it appears," replied Marvel. She was suddenly very aware of the room, the television still blaring, and the chill in the air. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. "Stop a minute, my dear," cried Austin. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account.
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