A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. You know that, and I know that, though we might be put to it to find a reason why. Now the baby’s bright May eyes peered up at her intently. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters.
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