Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. " "Is the sloop ready to sail?" asked Wild, without noticing the skipper's remark. He’s been near it once or twice already. Jack attacked Jonathan with such fury, that he drove him into a shrubbery, and might perhaps have come off the victor, if his foot had not slipped as he made a desperate lunge. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair.
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