" "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend. Do you mind talking to some one else. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. Fortescue’s steps, and encountered him with an air of artless surprise. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged.
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