She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. It isn't your duty. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit.
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