I’ve had it, Sheila. Lucy treaded down two steps, stunned. “I’m sorry. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. Ennison listened, and he forgot where he was. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep. It was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it.
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