She opened the door to him herself. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. "Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. He was, however, instantly beaten back; and the fury of the mob was so great that it was with difficulty he could effect a retreat. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse.
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