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Billy frowned. "I know that Spencer won't give you any more whisky," he said, "an' I know the deacon won't give you any more cider. I know that you've gettin' liquor some place—an' without payin' fer it. Now you kin tell me where, er you kin stay in that shanty an' see snakes an' things all night." For Billy, who knew and understood so well the sweeping wilderness of silence and mysteries, this swamp held a dread which, try as he might, he could not analyze. On one other occasion had he striven to penetrate it, but as if the bogland recognized in him a force not easily set aside, it had enwrapped him with its deadly mists which chilled and weakened, torn his flesh with its razor-edged grass and sucked at his feet with its oozy, dragging quicksands. He had turned back in time. For two weeks following his exploit he had lain ill with ague, shivering miserably, silent, but thinking. "Me jug," whispered Harry. "Where is that divil's halter av a jug, Billy?".
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Conrad
Mrs. Wilson gazed sternly at Billy. "Willium, do you take Anson's tarts and pie?" she asked ominously. "What a very little room!" said Lucy, peering in through the door Mr Lawrence held open. "How fearful to be locked up in such a box when the ship is sinking." "Thank God," he whispered, and stood trembling. Then, as though to himself, he said softly: "It is as though her soft hand touched these eyes that will never see again." "I'm afraid Joe'll sell, if he gets a good offer," reflected Wilson..
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