CHAPTER IX. . He was not a sailor. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. . A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders.
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