“Is that plain?” she asked. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. ‘Well?’ he uttered between heavy breaths. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. The cave had always been considered an evil place by the braves and for the most part they left her alone. I don’t know anyone. But he only went home again to Paddington. White’s,” she said, “and if he is going to persist in this delusion, we cannot both remain here.
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