, 13, Montague St. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. But I don’t think she lays hold of one so. " "Then I wish you good night.
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