“I will take my chance. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper. I have a hundred of them—mixed blood—on my island, and they are always rooking me. Just as he was preparing to follow, the wherry containing Rowland and his men, which had drifted in their wake, was dashed against his boat. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 09:45:22