Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. She pushed. Wood. It 163 invariably leads to trouble. ’ ‘I would have done, only you threatened to blow off my head,’ Gerald reminded her, laughing. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. ” She looked at him; his face, downcast and in profile, was handsome and strong. Mr.
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