Adjoining it was the Lower Ward,—"Though, in what degree of latitude it was situated," observes Ned Ward, "I cannot positively demonstrate, unless it lay ninety degrees beyond the North Pole; for, instead of being dark there but half a year, it is dark all the year round. Narrow little beady brown eyes, and she’s got big eyebrows like dead caterpillars. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child.
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