Tickle the ears of their reverences with any idle nonsense you please: but tell them nothing you care to have repeated. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. Loose the wherry, and stand to your oars—quick—quick!" These commands were promptly obeyed. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. This was his humiliation as well as hers. "I can't say I do," replied Wood.
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