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Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn, 1810-1865

"Mary Barton"


They answered gruffly. They saw a boatman whom they knew, and were
desirous of obtaining his services as a steersman, so that both
might row with greater effect. They knew what they were about. So
she sat silent with clenched hands while the parley went on, the
explanation was given, the favour asked and granted. But she was
sickening all the time with nervous fear.
They had been rowing a long, long time--half a day it seemed, at
least--yet Liverpool appeared still close at hand, and Mary began
almost to wonder that the men were not as much disheartened as she
was, when the wind, which had been hitherto against them, dropped,
and thin clouds began to gather over the sky, shutting out the sun,
and casting a chilly gloom over everything.
There was not a breath of air, and yet it was colder than when the
soft violence of the westerly wind had been felt.
The men renewed their efforts. The boat gave a bound forwards at
every pull of the oars. The water was glassy and motionless,
reflecting tint by tint of the Indian-ink sky above.


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