There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. ” Drummond shook his head in melancholy fashion. Michelle’s eyes darted around, she refused to look straight at Lucy. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre.
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