And nothing to tell her where to begin. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. But she perceived that to tell Manning of her Ramage adventures as they had happened would be like tarring figures upon a water-color. "You depart for Lancashire to-morrow.
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