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Then a ride to London on horseback. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. "Devilish strange!" thought he, chuckling to himself; "queer business! Capital trick of the cull in the cloak to make another person's brat stand the brunt for his own—capital! ha! ha! Won't do, though. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. “Mr. Except for a few early ebullitions of passion, natural to a warm and romantic disposition, and leaving no harmful after-effects—ebullitions that by the standards of the higher truth I feel no one can justly cast a stone at, and of which I for one am by no means ashamed—I come to you a pure and unencumbered man. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away. .
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