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He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. "Shall I fetch it for you, Sir?" "By all means. Give me that precious charge," he added, snatching the bundle from Wood. This was done, and Austin returned with a crest-fallen look to the table. Do not disquiet yourself. Our mutual safety requires it. It ought never to have begun.
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