CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. The stranger looked at him as if strongly disposed to chastise his impertinence. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. Michelle and her father sat in the audience, Diane having chosen to stay home to prepare dinner.
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