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“Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. " "Never!" cried Mrs. ” “Not for you?” “No. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. He came into the club next day, and of course we went for him thick. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. “It was great, Shari!” She replied the stars still in her eyes. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. “They have just taken this house from Lady Cellender. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. I love some one else. Her hormones were raging stupidly. Spurling had retired for the night. Mere hangers on.
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