Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. 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. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. Nobody who cared.
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