"Not I," replied Blueskin. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. The streets were full of colour.
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