Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. " "And who is its mother?" asked Jonathan, in an eager whisper. Immeasurable disgust possessed her. "Because she's a fire-opal, and to the world at large they bring bad luck. It was a sovereign easily earned. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him.
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