Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. " "Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly. One comes at last to the step from dreams to reality. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness. ” “My dear young lady,” the official said irritably, “this man would not have your name and address in his pocket without an object. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply.
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