"Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. Do you indeed remember? The smell of decay and cheap methylated spirit!. CHAPTER XVII. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal. I don’t want to tear at you with hot, rough hands. Sheila was a stout woman, her bosoms huge, her face 110 wide and square. ‘Soldier of fortune. But supposing he is? Supposing he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security.
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