His mother smiled in return, an act that brightened her thin face. Twenty guineas, mind. ‘You’re right. At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties.
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