Some of these persons were examining the spot where the spike had been cut off; others the spike itself, now considered a remarkable object; and all were marvelling how Jack could have possibly squeezed himself through such a narrow aperture, until it was explained to them by Mr. "The Captain's in such a desperate hurry, that there's no time for love-making. ’ ‘Don’t count on it. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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