“Beasts!” But Miss Miniver took no notice of his admission. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. There were two of them. His hug became an embrace. "Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup. The heroism of two beach combers had saved all on board and their own manhood as well. Perhaps, as you say, I do not really care—but I cannot do it.
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