“And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. It was a society column about the richest men in the world and their lavish parties. If he ran less risk of being blown over, he stood a much greater chance of being washed off, or stifled.
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