” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. ‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon.
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