" CHAPTER IX. I wish they would just get it over with. Oh God! pardon me. A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink. "This will be very comfortable. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. . Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. ’ He regarded her thoughtfully. "We won't have any trouble understanding each other; same language. Poor little one.
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