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Hawke himself was wounded.
John Reginald Hawke was a tough, irreverent maverick with a touch of working-class accent, even though he was Cambridge-educated. From his English father, a career naval officer, he had inherited a wiry, tireless physique and a love of the sea; from his More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell Australian mother, the uninhibited friendliness of 
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typical Aussie, occasionally hardened into a directness that could infuriate his superiors. Of medium height and one year shy of turning sixty, he was not an imposing man except for his eyes. Deep-set, they had a chameleon-like quality, capable More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell of changing shade with his mood-a pleasant sky blue normally but turning greek one house
the ice-coated paleness of topaz when he was angry or under tension. Those eyes conveyed mostly a curious expression now, as Hawke studied his two companions. He was looking particularly at Trevor Van Buren, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell whose reaction to Montagues revelation had been so ambivalent that it produced obvious nervousness, as if the oceanographer concert tickets
both excited and worried. The three men were in Van Burens study, the most comfortable room in the small house that stood on the outskirts of Broadway, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell a small village in the heart of the Cotswolds. Hawke was not the sort of man to understand why anyone who had spent his life shaka zulu
the secrets, treasures, and mysteries of the earths oceans would prefer to live in an inland town. It had taken Montague More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell two hours to get there from London by train, and Hawke had spent even longer driving his ancient Jaguar from the seacoast city of Weymouth, where he had retired, still brad miller
bachelor, after twenty-two years in the Royal Navy. Broadway was a lovely little place, actually More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell far nicer than Weymouth as a quiet residence, but it was too far from Hawkes beloved sea. One couldnt watch an Atlantic sunset or smell the faintly pungent salt air or walk along the shore at metro pcs
listening to the waves sigh as they rolled in. More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell Hawke respected the sea without fearing its capacity for treachery, danger, and, too often, death. He considered Van Buren to be one of those scientists whose only real love was acquisition of knowledge, an emotionless gathering of facts that didnt warrant dilution 
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sentiment.
Yet Van Burens More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell response to Montagues cryptic telephone call-Ive stumbled on something fantastic about the Titanic and we must discuss it together-had been identical to Hawkes: eager curiosity. It was Van Buren who had insisted on their meeting at his home. A better setting for something which sounds More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell monumental, he had explained 
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ponderously. However, now Van Buren was frowning, for Hawke had just uttered precisely what the oceanographer expected him to say after Montagues announcement: Weve got to go after the gold, of course. A very expensive proposition, Montague pointed out. And even if we More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell could organize an expedition, we might have the devils own kanes furniture
finding that ship. Van Burens frown was interrupted only long enough for him to take a sip of brandy. It seems to me that even if shes found, a far more difficult problem is getting down More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Lynne Russell to her. For Gods sake; John, the North Atlantic at the spot where she sank is concert tickets
than twelve thousand feet deep. You talk so glibly about having to go after the gold, assuming.
