The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. " "Devil!" muttered Jack, again grasping his pistol. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying.
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