" By this time Caliban had returned, and Jack appeared at the hatch. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. He drew a little sigh of relief. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. Perhaps, after all, the others were right.
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