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Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds. “After all,” he said, “I am not sure that you are not a very material person. ‘God loves you, even if your father didn’t. If our young person hadn’t had the nurse part cut out, eh? She might have known more and done less.
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