He seemed to be thinking hard. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. Wasn't the river beautiful under the moonlight?" "We did not leave our cabins. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. She could think of nothing more to say. She looked from Anna, who was far too nice-looking to be travelling about alone, to that reassuring pile of luggage, and wrinkled her brows thoughtfully.
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