’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. A young man was playing the banjo. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy. In the first place, Mrs. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. "No; it's only a fresh gale," Ben returned: "hark! now it comes.
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