It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. Getting back the ice was rather a serious affair. “Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength. ‘Never would he have gone to England.
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