The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket. Nor, indeed, did she want to refuse. “We will convince him now to the contrary,” Annabel answered. Kneebone, he took his departure. “I’ve gotta go. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day.
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