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"What was the story, sir?" asked Lucy. "Yes, Nelson is the great sea-poem of the age," said Captain Acton, "and I find more melody in the thunder of his guns than in the prettiest turns of the poetic measure. Are you going home, sister?" "Have you spoke any ships lately?" asked Captain Weaver..
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"A little." In about ten minutes after Paul had made his report, Mr Lawrence told him to knock on Miss Acton's cabin door and enter. This time the door swung to and fro, and Mr Lawrence, who had turned in his seat to follow the steward's movements, saw Miss Acton upon all fours upon the deck with her face close to the tray, as though she was taking up the food with her mouth. A swing of the vessel hove the door to its latch, and hid the extraordinary picture. "Stop!" Mrs. Wilson had risen suddenly from her chair and stood pointing an accusing finger at Billy. "Suppose," said Miss Acton, "that a French man-o'-war should capture you, and make you prisoners, what is to become of Lucy?.
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