But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room.
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