It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely. You might get faint, but you can fight it. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night.
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