“I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. No one spoke to her. That night in his den he smoked many pipes. Soot was everywhere, for the lamp would not stay trimmed in the gale. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath.
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