“It’s jolly of you to come,” said Ramage. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. Sir John once more looked around him. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. Anna came back into the sitting-room with a little sigh of relief. Michelle began to shadow her at school. "Auntie?" he cried.
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