“What is the good of talking?” said her brother. As soon as he gets into blue water, he'll think no more of pitching the boy overboard than of lighting his pipe. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. “Close your eyes. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. ” Pause. That night in his den he smoked many pipes.
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