That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away.
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