A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. From the Sha-mien to the yacht, Spurlock had uttered no word; though, even in the semi-darkness, no gesture or word of Ruth's escaped him. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her.
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