I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word.
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