" "You will call for it before six months are passed," rejoined Jack, sternly. Spurlock slept on. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend.
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