Tinman, and also Mrs. Cavely, were
on shore.
"It's his furniture, poor man, he sticks to: and nothing gets round the
heart so!" resumed Mrs. Crickledon. "There goes his bed-linen!"
The sheet was whirled and snapped away by the wind; distended doubled,
like a flock of winter geese changeing alphabetical letters on the
clouds, darted this way and that, and finally outspread on the waters
breaking against Marine Parade.
"They cannot have thought there was positive danger in remaining," said
Annette.
"Mr. Tinman was waiting for the cheapest Insurance office," a man
remarked to Mrs. Crickledon.
"The least to pay is to the undertaker," she replied, standing on tiptoe.
"And it's to be hoped he 'll pay more to-day. If only those walls don't
fall and stop the chance of the boat to save him for more outlay, poor
man! What boats was on the beach last night, high up and over the ridge
as they was, are planks by this time and only good for carpenters."
"Half our town's done for," one old man said; and another followed him
in a pious tone: "From water we came and to water we go.
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