C. " "I tell 'ee what, saltwater," said Ben, "I'll lay you my fare—and that'll be two shillin'—I'm back in an hour. In the first place, Mrs. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. Because she states her case in a tangle, drags it through swamps of nonsense, it doesn’t alter the fact that she is right.
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