“Let me help you,” he begged. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. I don’t feel it. Spurlock halted in his tracks. ’ Gerald reached out and took her hand, enclosing it between both his own. ‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. "What a very remarkable thing it is," he observed, applying to his snuff-box, "that Thames Darrell, whom we all supposed dead,"—Kneebone in his heart sincerely wished he had been so,—"should turn out to be alive after all.
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