Once a thriving town before the Pestilence, most of the buildings and the piers had been destroyed or burned. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. "You'll find a waterman asleep under his tilt in one of them ere craft, if you look about, Sir," replied Ben, backing water as he spoke. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. “Wow, congratulations, Martin.
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