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This isn't your island, child; it's the great world. "Damnation!" cried Kneebone. “Oh yes,” said Miss Klegg; “I thought every one knew. Insulting cries became frequent and various, but for the most part she could not understand what was said. Why hadn't he gone on with the girl's story? What instinct had stuffed it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable impulse to hurry this rather pathetic derelict on his way? CHAPTER XV Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an appalling worry, so that now, in the process of convalescence, it might be compared to a pool which had been violently stirred: there were indications of subsidence, but there were still strange forms swirling on the surface—whims and fancies which in normal times would never have risen above sub-consciousness. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. " "Keep in your own room, at all events," rejoined Kneebone. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. The soldiers surrounded the cart, drew their swords, and by striking the rioters first with the blunt edge of their blades, and afterwards with the sharp points, succeeded in driving them back. If the principal instigator of the crime, whom I afterwards encountered on the platform, and who was dashed into the raging flood by the shower of bricks, escaped, his preservation must have been indeed miraculous.
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