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. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. ’ ‘That’s easy. "Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it.
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