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The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. “You’re great, Lucy! I had no idea you were so great!” John exclaimed. I meant to lie to you. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. He drew her closer. ‘Parbleu, that pig, he will ruin all. “And where are YOU going?” he said. He was aware of Hilary, in company with Lucilla and the comtesse’s daughter some few yards away, listening in suddenly. “Hill has asked for you, and they will take his depositions to-night. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. When things are at the worst, they'll mend. Spurlock had seen Rollo heading for the jungle, and for some reason he could not explain the incident had bothered him.
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