In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. They trudged along a little hungry, because of the fruitarian refreshments, and mentally very active. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly.
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