"The glass never sinks in that way, d'ye see, without a hurricane follerin', I've knowed it often do so in the West Injees. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. Consternation gripped him. ” He rejoiced over this emancipation. ‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about. A sinister thought edged in.
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