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Mr Lawrence, with his back turned upon this cabin door, heard Lucy's voice, but not what she said. If Paul answered her his voice was so sunk by the awfulness of her presence, by all that she meant being at sea, by all that she had typified to this forlorn vagrant when on shore, that his accents were inaudible in the cabin. "Superstitious nonsense," scoffed the teacher. "And so the will was never found?" Aloud he urged: "Come on, Anse. Get Out an' pile into my bed. I ain't scared to sleep in yours, not a bit. Besides," he added, "it'll save you a canin' from Ma.".
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"I see 'em," his friend whispered back. "Gosh! looks as though they're goin' to tramp right onto us." She cried: "A dirty fellow giving her a letter, and beguiling her and luring her into some dreadful place, perhaps to her destruction! Oh dear! oh dear! what is to be done? Can't she be discovered? Can't the bell-man raise the alarm? Who can the wretch be that wrote to her? And why should she rush away to his help? Oh dear! oh dear! what is to be done?" "Yes, asthma's that way—eases off—then comes back—hits you sudden." He glanced at the bottle. Hinter, understanding, poured him out another portion. "That's one on you, Tom," laughed the man named Jack. "Quit roasting the kid. We'd have been mired yet if it hadn't been for him.".
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