CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. "You poor child!—you can have all the dogs on the island, if you want them! Come along to the kitchen, and we'll give Rollo a tubbing. And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. She wedged the towel between her legs. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Only one penny—two copies—two pence—thank you, Sir. Michelle’s eyes opened, her body paralyzed. “Why?” “I still love you. Capes?” she heard her aunt saying.
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