"Hist!" cried Rowland, arresting his comrade. Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. "To me?" gasped Winifred. A stomacher, fastened by imitationdiamond buckles, girded that part of her person, which should have been a waist; a coral necklace encircled her throat, and a few black patches, or mouches, as they were termed, served as a foil to the bloom of her cheek and chin.
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