I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. ’ ‘That’s just it,’ said Joan Ibstock shamefacedly. On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. McClintock will be tuning up the piano to-day. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning.
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