Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. Rain changed to hail, then 154 sleet, then snow. 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. Seeing Capes from day to day made a bright eventfulness that hampered her in the course she had resolved to follow. Fortunately, I've secured the proof of my birth.
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