Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. But since you assure me you didn't write the letters, and Mr. " CHAPTER XV. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. Spurling," said Jonathan, who overheard the whisper, "you owe your situation to me. "One last embrace. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER.
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