She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. I said, that day at Surbiton, ‘There’s many good things in life, but there’s only one best, and that’s the wild-haired girl who’s pulling away at that oar. The door of cabin 2 was open. “Anna! What tragedy has happened, little sister? No lights, no supper, no coffee —and, above all, no Mr. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. Howsomdever, if you should reach t'other side, take an old feller's advice, and don't be foolhardy enough to venter back again. Spurlock has gone. Once he chuckled aloud.
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