Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. The change in her face was not a pleasant one. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. "Give me till to-morrow," implored she, "and if I can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him without another word. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. “If you say so, Lucy. . " Winifred looked as if she could not indulge such a supposition for a single moment. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. She played “Happy Birthday” for John, after which they plied her with a dozen requests.
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