The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. Couldn’t make head nor tail of that note of yours. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. " "Then you're heartily welcome, Sir, whoever you are.
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