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CHAPTER VIII WHERE IS LUCY? Harry chuckled. "Faith, ut's crazy he thought I was I guess," he cried. "'Ould man,' sez he, 'somebody has been playin' a trick on ye. I know no such place as Gibson's Grove.' Thin begobs! he laughed, like he saw the humor av ut, and had me sate meself in the shade and smoke a cigar while I risted. So I'm thinkin', byes, them min jest wanted to get rid av me the while they ransacked me house and belongin's, bad cess to 'em!" "Billy says he'll shoot some more this evenin'," spoke up her father, who did not intend to allow anything to interfere with a duck dinner if he could help it..
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"What have you to do," said Captain Acton, "that we should wait until Saturday?" After a pause, during which he carefully scrutinised the vessel, "She has every appearance of being a frigate," the Admiral answered. The monotonous and commonplace demands of everyday life on board ship as well as on shore will enter into the most exalted and uncommon forms of romance at sea. Whether Lucy Acton was mad, or whether she was merely acting a part, it was as certain she must be fed as though she was a vulgar, homely, steerage passenger with nothing more poetic and soul-lifting in her life than the faded portrait of the milkman who wooed and then jilted her. He shook his head. "Not tonight, thanks. You're tired, and I've a long ride before me. Next time I come we'll have tea," he promised as he turned to shake hands with Landon..
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