He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. “I don’t care a rap for remembering. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. It seems that he was a sort of family friend of the Pellissiers, and it was the artist sister whom he was with. The skipper, Van Galgebrok, affirmed to me,—nay, gave me the additional testimony of two of his crew,—that he was thrown overboard.
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