‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why. " He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers. ’ Triumph leapt in Gerald’s chest. "The Wastrel seemed to take it all right. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. The barometer says nothing, neither the sky nor the water; the skipper has the "feel" that out yonder there's a big blow moving. Too close, he reasoned, for safety.
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