To his intense satisfaction, Melusine bit her lip on a tremor. 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. "Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. She saw how overworked he was. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. "Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition.
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