” Annabel rose to her feet. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. "Suppose he does. Mr. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband—I have only him. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. When you don’t have any fingers left, I take a toe.
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