She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. " "We'll see that, young hempseed," replied Sharples, shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it. " Half an hour later she laid aside the book. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. "It's of no use," observed Thames quietly, but with a look that chilled the little damsel's heart;—"my resolution is taken.
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