” “How are the Becks doing? Are they okay?” He smiled. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. Well, one must hope, that was all. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up.
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