He wriggled underneath her heaving body, pinned like an insect. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. There came to Spurlock the recurrence of the grim resolution of what he had set out to do: that comradeship was all he might ever give this exquisite creature; for she was exquisite, and in a way she dominated this picture of sea and sky and sail. "I tell 'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am, and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare. ‘You see, it is that I have a plan to marry an Englishman. She throws a sort of spell over us all.
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