The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. ‘Now then,’ said the captain sternly, ‘I’m not going to ask you what you’re doing here. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. But I never seen Mr Charvill, and when the Frenchie come out, I followed him again, like you told me.
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