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" "That is to say, you wish you had let me die?" "That was the thought. 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. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard. "Take me, then," replied the widow. ” She paused.
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