I’m taking no chances. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. But the world didn’t do that. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. Amidship there was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab and dirty. He rose slowly and extended it. “Are you with us?” said the tired woman. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her.
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