. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. " "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. " "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend. " "I shall go mad myself if I listen to her longer," said Jack, attempting to rise. ” She did not wait for Ann Veronica’s reply.
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