" "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. " "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. —"Stay! something occurs to me. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. I fought ten lions at once. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge.
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