" "Where are you going?" asked his mother. "Oh, Rollo, there are so many things I don't know! But you love me, don't you?" Rollo wagged his stump violently and tried to lick her face. "I could not make him understand. Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. He drew a little breath of relief. I've destroyed my only chance.
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