The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. But he did not follow on with the thought. “I would rather put up with your own efforts, however clumsy. Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep.
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