Sir Rowland, who had continued absorbed in thought, with his eyes fixed upon the sloop, as she made her way slowly down the river, disembarked more leisurely. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 15-05-2024 18:24:36
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