Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. On the envelope was written— Sydney Courtlaw, Esq. “Freedom! Citizenship! And the way to that—the way to everything—is the Vote. 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. “I wish they did,” he said, “but they don’t. I want to ask you a plain question, and you must answer me faithfully.
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