"I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. I shouldn't care to have attention constantly drawn to us. ” She shook her head. She remembered him as a dull figure, a big man with a belly that was already showing fat under his fine scarlet clothes. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him.
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