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Like most sailors of his time Mr Lawrence possessed the instinct of superstition, a quality or element which has contributed the most brilliant of the rays to the glory of the[Pg 322] romance of the sea. He was sensible of an emotion of awe as he watched Lucy bowing to and addressing a royal apparition so well known to him as the Sailor Prince whose viewless eye might be upon him, whose invisible ear might be taking in his story whilst the wild-haired girl bowed apparently to the bulkhead or addressed the thin air. "May I have a word with you, sir?" he exclaimed in a coarse, hoarse, broken voice. "Harry!" gasped Billy, "Harry O'Dule!".
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Conrad
Billy chuckled. "Then you got my message off of Croaker, Maurice?" "Old Harbour Town, England," responded Captain Weaver. "Did you act the part of a madwoman?" said Captain Acton. The deacon, a florid, full-whiskered man of about sixty, glowered about him. No one present thought of disputing his assertion. The deacon was a power in the community..
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