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"And did he shoot your quail?" asked Scroggie. "Found you," he echoed joyfully. "Found you as I have prayed through lightless days I might, some day, find you, blue-eyed girl with heart of gold; found you with your hope, your loyalty, your tenderness and your forgiveness." A bend of the river's path shut out the view of Old Harbour Town and the Harbour, and just when Mr Greyquill reached this turn, he saw Mr Lawrence coming along the road, having manifestly gained it by a little bridge, some distance beyond which was another way, but rather roundabout, of getting to Old Harbour from Sir William Lawrence's cottage..
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"Gee whitticker!" gasped Billy, "you must been havin' an argument with a mule. Who give you that black eye an' split lip, Anse?" "Say," said the man as Billy came up, "you know when ducks put on an extra coverin' of feathers a hard winter is in sight? Well, by gosh, these birds have all put on an extra undershirt. Look," holding the duck in his hands up for inspection. "How's that for a coat o' down?" Moll whined and wagged her stub of a tail, undoubtedly sensing from her master's words and manner that her offense, in "sneakin' in," had been pardoned. Five minutes later they were seated snugly inside four walls of tightly woven rushes, the blind man's face alive and glowing with the joy of once more feeling the moist kiss of open water, his ears atuned for the first whistle of incoming wings. Billy crouched by his side, gun in hand, eyes sweeping the lighting bay. "That's all. Jest Walter Watland.".
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