And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. The bars dropped noiselessly and slowly down, till the chain tightened at the staple.
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