E. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. Sheppard towards an appalling object in one corner. You know the sort of thing. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor.
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