CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. " "Why how's this?" exclaimed Jonathan. Austin. Well, they’d got to the pheasants, and in a little while he would smoke. . McClintock does it; and he knows why. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. Spurling, squeezing Jack's arm, and pushing him towards the door, "and, don't come here again. But nobody drinks on my island unless I offer it, which is seldom.
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