And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. It was true. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. Uttering a terrible imprecation, Jonathan snatched up the link, and hastily descended the stairs, leaving the Jew behind him. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music.
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