CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. But it was not so ordered. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. "I'm surprised Mr. “I’m going to kill your weakness for you.
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