“Dear John,” she whispered. "Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. I kept watch over you, for fear of a surprise on the part of Jonathan. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled. " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth.
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