Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. “I had a dream in the night,” she said. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. ” She awoke out of a doze, as though she had never been sleeping. Never had her father explained.
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