What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. Wood laughed louder than ever. ’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. ” “I was late. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded.
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