Spurlock bent his head to the rail. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. But days had now passed. Jeez! It was about time. She drove me. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. Proof that the scoundrel had risen from the dead—for he was dead to his father! He glared at the female whose appearance in England had revived those painful memories—churning unbearably since Brewis Charvill had brought him the news and put him in the worst of tempers—and the fury spilled out. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. Other phrases returned now, like echoes.
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