There were swift actions, too: a Kanaka crawled out upon the bowsprit to make taut a slack stay, while two others with pulley-blocks swarmed aloft. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. All the party were greatly interested by Sheppard's history— especially Figg, who laughed loud and long at the escape from the Condemned Hold. It was a sovereign easily earned.
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