Let me have more light, that I may behold him. "If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame. Stanley. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water.
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