” His eyes were squeezed shut. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. Och! many a mug o' bubb have I drained wi' the landlord, Joe Hind. ‘Come, cry a truce.
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