He was a queer figure with his bandaged head, one eye peering out, and a long, dripping red quilt trailing behind him. “I found the bed flooded, and put the comfort round me; but someway that’s wet, too.” He could hardly speak for shivering.,
“I don’t know what’s the matter,—I’m drowned, I guess.” His teeth rattled, and the hand he put out to her was icy cold.,
“Never mind, Mosey, we’ll tell Miss Gordon. She’ll give them sulphur an’ brimstone to-morrer.”.
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