The white cloth was instantly dyed with crimson; but, regardless of this, Jonathan continued his murderous assault. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. And if she was ever found living in the area like that, homeless, John could somehow find out. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand.
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