His expression became pained. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. Accordingly, he stopped the coach, dismounted, and hastened towards the assemblage, which, he was glad to find, consisted chiefly of a posse of watchmen and other guardians of the night. ‘And if he is dead I know not.
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