Dolby smiled. "Halloa!" cried Jack, looking round, and trying to fix his inebriate gaze upon the speaker,—"who's that?" "Your mother," replied Mrs. Kneebone. "Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. “Certainly her voice is far more musical. “Thank you—for coming,” he said. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle.
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