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"To-morrow night!" said Spurlock, in a wondering whisper. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. His face was downcast. " The young woman laid a finger on her lips, cautioning O'Higgins to silence. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. . . But what would her aunt think of Teddy’s recent off-hand suggestion of marriage? What would she think of the Widgett conversation? Suppose she was to tell her aunt quietly but firmly about the parasitic males of degraded crustacea. Before she passed out she turned and faced Sir John.
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