Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. It might prove rewarding. It is just the aim I have had in view all the time. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. There was a hint of tears in her voice.
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