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Mr. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. It had been a trying day. She mewed weakly, “Sebastian? What have you done? Where is Gianfrancesco? Did you kill him?” He crossed his arms. To this Jack replied, that he should be perfectly contented, provided he might have a small allowance of gin. His apparel was sumptuous in the extreme, and such as was only worn by persons of the highest distinction. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. \" \"Okay. Wood,—"he'll never mend.
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