’ I said. And instead of accepting the situation gratefully, he felt vaguely hurt! One evening in September a proa rasped in upon the beach. I knew it. "Show me your warrant!" said Wood, almost driven to his wit's-end; "perhaps it isn't regular?" "Ask him who he is?" suggested Thames. Someday I'll take you down there and have them rig up the coconut dance for you. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. Pull yourself together now.
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