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‘Your niece, ma’am. She told us that it was a disguise. " "She has suffered enough for you," said Wood. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. "You play?" asked McClintock, who was sorting the rolls. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. "How have you managed to communicate with him?" Abraham, who had listened attentively to the foregoing conversation,—not a word of which escaped him,—now drew in his breath, and brought his ear closer to the boards. But remember my warning, and play the game!" Spurlock closed his eyes again. "You soon shall," rejoined Sheppard. ‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes.
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