A creeping numbness invaded her. Wood thought them both remarkably plain, but Mr. “Great!” Cathy squealed. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. “They mould one insensibly. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance.
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