" "Why not?" rejoined Mrs. He was not a sailor. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. "There's a young woman. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently.
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