It was red and chapped. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. "Fox-terriers of the sea; friends with every ship that comes along. ‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. Earles said, “but this is rubbish. ” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow.
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