"Your father said so before you," replied Jonathan, malignantly; "and yet it has tarried thus long. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. ‘Never. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him.
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