But a queerer thing still,my Admiral, is that ship, the three-decker at the northernmost tip of the line. There was a light at one of them andthe shadow of someone looking out. Forty-seven. In the centre of the roomwas a huge number of tallow candles and gathered there was every servantthat Lascelles had ever seen at Hurtfew, and a great many that he had not.
He spread out his hands in front of him. But stranger still was the transformation that the light workedupon the dozens of small mahogany drawers that formed one wall of the shop. As she watched, she saw the child grow upand grow older and she recognized herself. He may be still there.
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