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"The sweetest of her sex, Mr. Caryll, but that hot after the men you wouldn't believe." Kit threw back his head and gurgled. Only fifteen, and man enough not to be ashamed to be a boy, he still loved make-believe. And his heart went out to this man, who was after all a brother-boy. "No, I wasn't a sailor.
This is a job for officers." He began to paddle out, the ripples playing about his ankles. Blob's presence braced him to his task. It called to his spirit of a gentleman. He would just show this lout what blood meant. Blob followed him with awed eyes. "She's aloive," he warned his brother-boy. "She'll swallow ee." "No, she won't," Kit replied. "She's an old friend of mine."
Loyal to his brother-boy, he had slammed the door as bidden, and, himself, the wrong side of it, had come to Kit's assistance. After all he was a boy, and was not the young gentleman a boy? and is not all the world against boys? Boys that must hold together, or they will surely all be lost. Kit heard and lived anew. Before him in the darkness was a muffled tumult.
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