“The sooner you tell me the better. "What will you do?" asked Thames. Critically, she stared at her own features. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. There'll be a fall of above twelve foot o' water, and think o' that on a night as 'ud blow a whole fleet to the devil. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan.
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