If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. It slipped out—as did that “she”. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale. But from the first her rather old-fashioned conception of life had jarred with the suburban atmosphere, the High School spirit and the memories of the light and little Mrs. Marvel, then, took two iron weights, each of a hundred pounds, and placed them in the press.
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