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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. "Here he is, waterman," exclaimed the benevolent carpenter. Michelle smiled. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Sheppard," replied Jonathan, mysteriously. “Just fine. . He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. " "Never fear," replied Thames, taking up his hat.
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