He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. CHAPTER XVI. But she did not talk readily, and in order to say something she plunged a little, and felt she plunged. " "Damnation!" cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage.
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