” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. There were swift actions, too: a Kanaka crawled out upon the bowsprit to make taut a slack stay, while two others with pulley-blocks swarmed aloft. ‘Hang it all, Mrs Sindlesham is right! You are two of a kind.
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