We already had a place to mislay blame. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. I was sure you could not have the heart to slay a child—an innocent child. Also she remembered very vividly the smell of orange blossom, and Alice, drooping and spiritless, mumbling responses, facing Doctor Ralph, while the Rev. The plank hung over his head.
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