’
‘That’s just it,’ said Joan Ibstock shamefacedly. ”
“You could never be that,” he answered, “but you are at least more serious than
usual. “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless
I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. I did not lay any traps for her. His hand flew across
the paper. ‘Parbleu, but what a person you make
me! One who spies. Rather a hazardous
spot for a convalescent, and McClintock had been doubtful at first; but Spurlock
declared that he was a good sailor, which was true. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black
pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. ‘I had no need of the place, and there was no money, of course. Dorling said. On the contrary, I am altogether satisfied.
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