The coachman having received his order, and being offered an extra fare if he drove quickly, set off at full speed. ‘Imbecile. 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. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. Lucy marveled at the billiards table and the sauna. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him.
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