‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. ” Meddoes turned round from the table on which he was practising shots and shrugged his shoulders. Acting upon this humane determination, he impelled himself slowly backwards,—for he did not dare to face the blast,—and with incredible labour and fatigue reached the crevice. They made a stratum into which Ann Veronica was now plunged up to her neck; it had become her stratum.
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