He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. "What for?" demanded Wood. Observing Spurlock's spellbound attitude, he clapped the boy on the shoulder. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response.
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