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” Annabel looked at him curiously. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds.
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