"Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. "I thought I heard a noise. They'll inspect the schooner on the way back," McClintock lied, cheerfully. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection.
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