Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. "If so, it won't pay. He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. Did you ever go by any other names, ma’am?” “Yes.
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