“Yes, I remember,” she said. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. Ain't we, partner?" he added, appealing to Langley, whom punch had made rather dozy. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally.
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