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They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had. God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard. Go to it. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. Her teachers and mistresses had done their best to stamp her mind with an ineradicable persuasion that it was tremendously important, and on no account to be thought about. And then—this sudden thrust. Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face. ’ ‘You saw? Where were you? How did you see?’ ‘Your heroic milice are not as clever as they thought. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. “You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he asked.
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