The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. " "What did I forget?" "The breathless days and the faded, pitiless sky. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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