The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. Gosse had to release his clamp on her mouth, for the awkwardness of the position made it impossible to negotiate the little stair. . ’ He sighed elaborately. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader.
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