At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. " "Be it so," replied Jack, putting up his blade. "My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. I won't have a beachcomber on the island. ” He recovered himself.
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