’ ‘No, I won’t. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. " "I see through your design, Jack," returned the carpenter, gravely; "but I don't like under-hand work. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. “Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. .
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