Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood. Which is also puzzling. They had their little dreams about her. ‘Melusine. They're on the forward lounge in the saloon.
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