My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. “A man like that taints a girl by looking at her, by his mere conversation. Easily I could have killed you. How can you say such things? You’re too young to be married, and realize this: you’re not ready. And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband.
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