You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds. The elusive Jane tapped her on the shoulder after class. She turned off the light and approached the window. "There's nothing in his clothes.
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