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Meysey Hill—never your wife. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. I'll tell you what. Yes, there was someone there. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. 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.
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