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She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. Horrible!" "Poor soul! her senses are going again," said Mr. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes.

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