‘Very well, arrest me. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. But I can give it its name now. E. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one.
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