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’ ‘Ah, so you did come here to find someone,’ Gerald responded eagerly. "You're on," said O'Higgins. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. Everybody talking of you. F. . Ann Veronica watched her and wondered about her. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. He can't play cards, either, when he's sober. The barmaids had too strongly appealed to his sense of novelty.
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