The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. I'll speak to McClintock to-night and see if he won't take us for a junket on The Tigress. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere. ‘You see, it is that my papa, he is without sympathy,’ said the lady sadly.
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