‘Kill him? Oh. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. To this Jack replied, that he should be perfectly contented, provided he might have a small allowance of gin. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. It took all my self control not to let my hands wander.
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