"All my life I've dreamed of something like this," he said, divertingly, with a gesture which included the yacht. Adjoining it was the Lower Ward,—"Though, in what degree of latitude it was situated," observes Ned Ward, "I cannot positively demonstrate, unless it lay ninety degrees beyond the North Pole; for, instead of being dark there but half a year, it is dark all the year round. I'm not noble; so my honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. "I don't know what his idea was. " "It may be; but if it shortens the distance and lightens the journey, I care not," retorted the widow, who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden eloquence.
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