‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. I want my freedom. All four people moved a little nervously into the drawing-room, maintaining a sort of fluttered amiability of sound and movement. 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.
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