There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. She shot a sudden glance at him. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime. “I am very glad that you have come here. Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent. And the jailers also retired.
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