‘Yes, don’t interrupt me,’ said Captain Roding severely. The coconut plantation covered the west side. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. He could not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed his hands with delight. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. “P. Ralph.
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