” He groaned. "He sails to-morrow morning in the very vessel by which I start," replied Jack. " "I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. Mind, I am anticipating events. "Quilt Arnold, is that you?" "It is, Sir," sputtered the janizary. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating. She made an abrupt personal appeal.
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