Sampans with fish and fruit and vegetables swarmed about, while overhead gulls wheeled and swooped and circled. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. She's fine.
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