CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. “I love you. " Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. Nor was he long in making it available.
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