” His voice conveyed studied moderation. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green.
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