He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. "We've heard coming and going. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. He delayed the blow till the fortunate conjuncture was past. “Rummy lot we are!” said Roddy. “No, no, no.
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