Amidship there was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab and dirty. Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards. .
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