" CHAPTER XIII. James Boyle O'Higgins knew little or nothing of the South Seas, but he knew human beings, all colours. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight.
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