Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. There are some islands upon which he is not permitted to land any more. He would have to go on; he would be forced to enact all the obligations he had imposed upon himself. 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. Besides, he might hear things. “Oh my God! You sounded like my Grandma just now! How did you do that?” He asked, shocked.
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