CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. It wasn’t pretty. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. Here we are. They then clambered over a hedge, and scaling another wall, got into the garden at the back of the house.
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