John knew everybody, it seemed. I dined with a friend and went to the ‘Unusual. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. There are only a few jobs over here for a man of your type; and even these are more or less hopeless if you haven't trained mechanical ability. During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered.
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