“Lucy, this isn’t funny anymore. I hear the splash in the water—I see the white object floating like a sea-bird on the tide—it will not sink!" "'Sblood!" exclaimed Jonathan, in a tone of ill-disguised contempt; "it won't do to indulge those fancies now. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. "I declare you throw me into an ague. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt.
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