A few words passed between him and the thief-taker as the latter came up; after which, all the party—with the exception of Quilt, who was left on shore —embarked within the wherry, which was pushed from the strand and rowed swiftly along the stream—for the tide was in its favour—by a couple of watermen. I hate children. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. I never see them, they never even call. Stanley, and paused. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. He just walked in a few minutes ago. He waited. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble.
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