CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. "He sails to-morrow morning in the very vessel by which I start," replied Jack. ” Lucy commented, dismayed. My friends consider it wonderfully faithful.
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