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ยู ฟ่า เบ ท 666 "Can you make out where you are, Mike?" inquired Mr. Pennant, after about half a mile had been made. "No, sar; can't spell noffin." "The nearest land is an island, and there is hardly anything like a village on the entire Bay of St. Andrew's. The region is deserted now, and I might wander about there for a month, till I starved to death, before I could get to a settled region." "I do not, Paul; I think it wears upon me, though I am willing to do my duty wherever I am ordered."