“Mr. ’ ‘Gammon!’ burst from the captain, who had just tossed off a glass of Madeira. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him.
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