He had chosen his time well. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. It was enough that Spurlock had been taken aboard The Tigress. Wood in the deepest mourning.
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