But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition. I got three pounds, and there’s three on my watch. Spurling had retired for the night. No more scuffling. What a girl of sixteen cares for is hair and a high color and moonlight and a tenor voice. CHAPTER XII.
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