She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. ” “Sure thing, kid.
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