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Updated: June 20, 2025
Long after the door had closed upon Leif, and he had entered the sledge and been whirled through the gate in a flurry of snow and a clamor of bells, Alwin stood there, motionless. Tyrker dozed in the comfort-able warmth, and woke to find him still staring down into the fire. "What hast thou, my son?" he questioned, kindly.
Poor fellow! Penned in. They never had a chance down there. He was well, he died a few minutes after he was dragged out here on the deck. His clothes were on fire. But let's not talk about it. Tell me, is there anything I can do to make you more comfort-able? Or your aunt? I'm what you might call officer of the deck at present. Mr. Mott " "You ought to be in bed, Mr.
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