" "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. " And running on in this way, he carefully concealed the tools. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor.
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