You don’t know the thoughts we have; the things we can do and say. She was my first love. Stanley admired and detested him in almost equal measure. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit.
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