Wood heard the cry. He loves the Mendelians because he hates all the big names of the eighties and nineties. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. It was still possible the child might be in safety. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore.
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