‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. A sea voyage under sail will be the making of him. ‘What is it?’ asked Roding. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. “Certainly I was a little way off at the café, and she had a hat and veil on, but I could have sworn that it was ‘Alcide.
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