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It'll be turning over to-morrow. CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. I did all for the best, I'm sure. They walked in silence. Meet me. "And will swear to it?" "I will. " "Surely, you haven't stolen it?" "Stolen's an awkward word. Civil engineering. Our ideal had fallen. "I must tell you," she was saying.
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