I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. "What's the matter, father!" continued the new-comer, addressing Wood. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Trodger laid down their muskets and turned on them.
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