‘But you know. I’m okay. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. Earles said, rubbing his hands together, “by post. As soon as he gets into blue water, he'll think no more of pitching the boy overboard than of lighting his pipe. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now.
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