“Impossible to say,” he answered. " He bent his head to his knees. He came as an agreeable diversion from an insoluble perplexity. “Where am I?” he muttered. She wrapped a leg around him. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. Treasure caves to explore! All through these trying days she had recurrently wondered what this strange young man would have to say that Dickens and Hugo had not already said. There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls.
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