You never can tell. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest. Wood in a sharp tone. "Set down the kid," roared Blueskin, savagely. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. She twisted to meet him and folded into his embrace.
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