The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. Ramage’s bitterness passed as abruptly as his aggression. ‘You could not tell it,’ said Melusine, ‘unless you were as close as we. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more.
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