The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. Sebastian grabbed a rock from a corner and bashed in its skull. The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. ‘Only perhaps I can more readily do so if you will put down that pistol. Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. ’ ‘I still think you ought to have waited, miss. Ireton; for may I be hanged myself if I don't believe he'll be as good as his word.
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