B. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight. Three cars were lined up in the driveway. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon.
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