" "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. He never felt any need to explain himself. If this is true, it must be owned that the boy's mouth showed a strong tendency on his part to coarse indulgence. The door is open, so it is needless to ask leave to enter. You are my prisoner, murderer.
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