I hope—I am sure that he did not see me. He moaned. Cased and ribbed with stone, and braced with horizontal beams of timber, the piles, which formed the foundation of these jetties, had resisted the strong encroachments of the current for centuries. I haven’t, anyhow. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise.
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