"I'll gibbet the rascal. ‘My God!’ he said, ‘I’ll go after them and kill him. My wife doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand now. The youth of them! And what was he going to do when they left his island? What would Donald McClintock be doing with himself, when youth left the island, never more to return? Ruth was thrilling with joy. Please to release me. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. Ain't you, Jacky darling?" "Not quite, Poll," returned Mr. Abruptly, Gerald turned. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil.
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