"Weigh anchor, Van!" he shouted to the skipper, "and consult your despatches. ‘Is she the Frenchie we’ve been watching for then, sir?’ The lady’s furious features turned on this new target. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. Mrs. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. You have to see her to understand. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous. This path, bordered on each side by high privet hedges of the most beautiful green, soon brought them to a stile.
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