Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. I don’t know if I express myself clearly. Stanley and his sister into a taxicab, and had waved an amiable farewell from the pavement steps. "But this need give you no uneasiness," pursued Jonathan; "Mrs. Loose the wherry, and stand to your oars—quick—quick!" These commands were promptly obeyed. ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband.
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