In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’ ‘She said she wouldn’t murder you.
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