Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her. ” She roused herself from some dream at the word. " Mr. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. My people don’t know what to do. "I can't say I do," replied Wood.
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