“I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. Here, as has already been observed, condemned malefactors were allowed to converse with such of their guests as had not interest or money enough to procure admission to them in the hold. "What's the matter, lad, after all the wonderful fireworks at lunch?" Spurlock beheld McClintock standing beside him.
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