CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. She would ignore him. All right, I’m coming. And when there is no longer any need to use it, why then, enough you say—and throw it away. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. The late afternoon, en effet. 1. Let me take the satchel, sir.
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