Just as Hogarth got to the door, the turnkey stopped him. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. No one is safe. "O Massa Ireton! Massa Wild!" ejaculated Caliban, "Shack Sheppart gone!" "Gone? you black devil!—Gone?" cried Ireton. It’s no good flying out at that, Vee; I didn’t arrange it. I really cannot have anything to do with Mr.
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