All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own. His voice when he spoke was almost fiercely assertive, but there was an undernote of nervousness. "My friends, Mr. Born on a South Sea island, she said. Promise me. ” Michelle shrugged. His frowning gaze came back to her. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. “Not much.
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