GBP 7.23

Panicky Grandmother Cytrek

The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest.I protest, even warmly, that neither he nor his sorrows were in my intention.She stared at him in astonishment, and as she read something of the significant hieroglyphic of his battered face, her lips whitened.

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