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TWO:��I don��t say anything at all, my dear,�� he said. ��Mr Silverdale has said it too often.��"Yes. Something that interested us yesterday when we saw it."

FORE:From Chicago westward they traversed the rich prairies of Illinois and Iowa��a broad expanse of flat country, which wearied them with its monotony. At Omaha they crossed the Missouri River on a long bridge; and while they were crossing, Frank wrote some lines in his note-book to the effect that the Missouri was the longest river in the world, and was sometimes called the "Big Muddy," on account of its color. It looked[Pg 40] like coffee after milk has been added; and was once said by Senator Benton to be too thick to swim in, but not thick enough to walk on.

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TWO:Apart from the strenuous matter of Dr Inglis��s discourse, a circumstance that added interest to{7} it was the fact that this was the last Sunday on which he would officiate at St Thomas��s, Bracebridge, and he had already been the recipient of a silver tea-set, deeply chased with scrolls and vegetables, subscribed for by his parishioners and bought at Mr Keeling��s stores, and a framed address in primary colours. He had been appointed to a canonry of the Cathedral that stood in the centre of the cup-shaped hollow on the sides of which Bracebridge so picturesquely clustered, and his successor, a youngish man, with a short, pale beard, now curiously coloured with the light that came through a stained glass window opposite, had read the lessons and the litany.

FORE:

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TWO:��I meant to,�� she said, ��until I smelt the wind. Then it was impossible. I should not care if every book in the world was burned, I think. And you, not at the Cathedral this morning?��

FORE:"Nobody," remarked Arthur, cramming bread and butter into his mouth. "Game off."Gholson brought the mulatress. In the feeble rays of an old tin lantern, on some gunny-sacking that lay about the gin-room floor, sat old Dismukes cross-legged and smiling, with arms folded and revolver dangling from his right hand, at full cock. On one side crouched Harry and I, on the other side Gholson and the slave woman. Facing him, half sat, half knelt Oliver, bound hand and foot, and gagged with his own knotted handkerchief. The lantern hung from a low beam just above his face; his eyes blazed across the short interval with the splendor of a hawk's. The dread issue of the hour seemed all at once to have taken from his outward aspect the baser signs of his habits and crimes, and I saw large extenuation for Charlotte's great mistake. From the big Colonel's face, too, the heaviness of drink was gone, and its smile grew almost fine as he spoke.

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