” Sir John turned towards the door. It was she—— Anna’s nerves were not easily shaken, but she found herself suddenly clutching at the table for support. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. "Do not despair!" echoed Mrs. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. He paced faster, stomping around. CHAPTER VIII.
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