The day is already half over. I don’t know what has come over me. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. But I swear she ain’t told me nothing more, sir. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather.
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