Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. She became as The Tigress, a free thing. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. " "You did right," returned Trenchard.
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