CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. "Who are the others?" "Let me see. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. Ramage demurred. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. ‘Oh, peste. Lucy could sense her mental resolution to nip Michelle’s burgeoning obsession with the occult in the bud.
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