Mr. "And now, shall we proceed to Queenhithe?" "Stay!" cried the other, taking a chair, "a word with you, Mr. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. I worship you. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. Oh! thank you—thank you! I'm so happy!" "Stop, Winny!" he answered, gravely; "I haven't promised yet. ‘I dare say the best plan will be for me to bring her to see you, after all.
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