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‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. "Sorry you're obliged to keep your word. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. But you couldn't.

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