‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. “Hainault, Celeste’s friend. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. Manning told her he loved beauty, and extorted a similar admission from her; he then expatiated upon his own love of beauty.
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