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Recalled to Life by Grant Allen
page 132 of 198 (66%)
Sharbot Lake. So they were aware that no one on earth but themselves
had any idea where I had gone. And I had further divulged to them
the important fact that I had plenty of ready money in Bank of
England notes! I stood aghast at my own silliness. But still, I did
NOT distrust them.

No, I did NOT distrust them. I felt I ought to be distrustful. I
felt it might be expected of me. But they were so gentle-mannered
and so sweet-natured, that I couldn't distrust them. I tried very
hard, but distrust wouldn't come to me. That kind fellow Jack--I
thought of him, just so, as Jack already--couldn't hurt a fly, much
less kill a woman. It grieved me to think I would have to hurt his
feelings.

For now that I came to look things squarely in the face in my berth
by myself, I began to see how utterly impossible it would be for me
after all to go and stop with the Cheritons. How I could ever have
dreamt it feasible I could hardly conceive. I ought to have refused
at once. I ought to have been braver. I ought to have said outright,
"I'll have nothing to do or say with anyone who is a friend or an
acquaintance of Courtenay Ivor's." And yet, to have said so would
have been to give up the game for lost. It would have been to
proclaim that I had come out to Canada as Courtenay Ivor's enemy.

I wasn't fit, that was the fact, for my self-imposed task of
private detective.

A good part of that night I lay awake in my berth, bitterly
reproaching myself for having come on this wild-goose chase without
the aid of a man--an experienced officer. Next morning, I rose and
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