He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. As soon as he gets into blue water, he'll think no more of pitching the boy overboard than of lighting his pipe. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. Montague Hill.
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