” “Well, I have two,” said Mr. Manning’s letter. Wood started to his feet. ‘Allow me. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. And look down, so. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem.
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