“But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. It was only a matter of time. " "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. “Thank you,” she said coolly. "'Cos there's a gale a-getting up as'll perwent you, young freshwater," replied the tar. A creeping numbness invaded her.
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