His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. " "Never mind," said the old sailor, taking up a piece of blazing coal with the tongs, and applying it to his pipe; "let 'em try. ” “You alarm me,” she murmured, smiling. ‘I doubt it. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. .
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