The Old Mint III. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. " "Ship her back to her father"—sagely. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before.
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