"You know what I mean," said the trader, gravely. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. If you choose to requite me by detaining me, you are at liberty to do so. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames.
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