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She pointed. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. The carpenter trembled; for he perceived Rowland's gaze fixed first upon the infant, and then on himself. His shirt also was unbuttoned, and disclosed a neck like that of an ox, and a chest which might have served as a model for a Hercules. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. These are the decrees of the Island of Bermuda, and I will never suffer its excellent laws to be violated.
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