"There's a young woman. " "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. " She made the companion without touching stay or rail, which necessitated a fine sense of balance, for there was a growing vigour to the wind and a corresponding lift to the roll of the sea.
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