Overcome by his affliction, Mr. Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. I know something about men. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. "A thousand dollars in British pounds!… A thousand dollars for four short stories!" The tan on Spurlock's face lightened.
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