"Friends!" echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. "Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. Taber. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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