’ She looked up again and smiled sweetly. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. He seemed to charge her with the ruin of their situation. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends.
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