Thanksgiving Day morning, Shari woke Lucy a half an hour before the sounding of the alarm. “Please hurry. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. “You shall go,” he declared.
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