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But she was staring seaward and did not notice the offering. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. Furiously, she dashed his hands away. With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle. Men usually do. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. “But then they would find that check endorsed in his bureau.
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