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’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. He was inclined to be a good-natured person, and he had no nervous fears of receiving a snub.
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