The Well Hole 336 XIII. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. “Better state of mind,” she gasped. " "Man!" screamed Mrs. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. "Let me go," cried Winifred. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun.
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