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October's second morning dawned sullen and grey, with a chill wind banking slate-hued clouds in the sky. Deacon Ringold, taking the short cut across the stubble-fields to Wilson's, shivered as he glanced back at the black lines his feet had cut through the crisp white frost, and decided to put on his woolen underclothes right away. The deacon had important and disturbing news to convey to his neighbor and had started out early to seek his counsel. As the second mate climbed the companion steps Mr Lawrence stood with his hand upon the table and his eyes fastened upon Lucy's door, thinking. It was clear he was hanging in the wind, as sailors say. He could head a boarding party, he could look a loaded cannon full in the muzzle, he could risk seizing the side-rope which was connected with a fuse for exploding the powder-room of a pirate that was to be boarded and taken; but he seemed to lack heart for such an enterprise as his opening of that door, and his entrance into that berth signified. "That is the end—there is no name.".
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
Mr Lawrence made no answer, and Mr Pledge seeing that he was to go, went on deck by the only exit, namely, the companion ladder. Immediately after he had passed through the hatch the steward Paul descended. "I'm afraid Joe'll sell, if he gets a good offer," reflected Wilson. "Will we foller 'em, Bill?" asked Maurice eagerly. "Yes," he answered. "I told him that same day. Told him that you said you could never be more to him than what you now are. Why do you ask, Erie?".
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