She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. But she was staring seaward and did not notice the offering. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. unless a copyright notice is included. .
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