At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. Gosse was backing towards the table.
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