His name was Peter. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. “I am sick of it. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him.
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