‘Moreover, no one will believe any more that Yolande is me when they see this. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. ” Lucy said.
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