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There is a great temptation to start a novel of adventure with a shipwreck. Something like this:
"With a sickening crunch the three-masted bark Aretusa, sailing from the New Hebrides with a cargo of copra, listed heavily to starboard. The raging sea swept over-"
But we did not yield to the temptation. This true story of ours will open without a shipwreck. Since we wish, however, to conform throughout to the dictates of good style, we solemnly promise to arrange one later on.
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