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KIPPS
life. It never reached the surface of his mind, it never took to itself substance or form; it looked up merely as the phantom of a face might look, out of deep waters, and sank again to nothingness.
"Artie," said Ann.
He woke up and pulled a stroke. "What?" he said.
"Penny for your thoughts, Artie."
He considered.
"I reely don't think I was thinking of anything," he said at last with a smile. "No."
He still rested on his oars.
"I expect," he said, "I was thinking jest what a Rum Go everything is. I expect it was something like that."
"Queer old Artie!"
"Ain't I? I don't suppose there ever was a chap quite like me before."
He reflected for just another minute.
"Oo!—I dunno," he said, and roused himself to pull.
THE END.
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