The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. She still kicked herself for it. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. "What's the matter, lad, after all the wonderful fireworks at lunch?" Spurlock beheld McClintock standing beside him. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled. Wood; "and Blueskin, too.
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