On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. It needs cultivating, I think. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit.
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