‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. "Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties. Neither he nor Gerald chose to attire themselves in full military rig on fashionable occasions such as this. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber.
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