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We bobbed and curtsied at the end of our cable until about four in the afternoon, listening to Gossage's products churning and lathering down below. It grew colder and colder; we were wet to the skin and almost numbed.
My most striking experience in this connection happened one day towards the end of my term of service with the boating company. We were alongside a French vessel, the Notre Dame de la Garde, taking in boxes of Gossage's blue mottled soap. Before we had received more than a quarter of our appointed cargo, the wind and the sea rose suddenly together.
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