" "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. We are going to have this chap writing books one of these days. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather.
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