Gosse were you born, and Gosse will you remain to your death. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. This mitigated her remorse enormously. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. 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.
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