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‘Until today. His literary instincts began to stir. ” She growled. ” “I am frightened of Sir John,” he said, “but I suggest that we risk it. "Either he or you must return with me," answered Jonathan. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. ’ He endured the inevitable scold with patience, saluted Mrs Chalkney’s faded cheek, and went off to endure the necessary delay with what patience he could muster. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. Stanley.
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