The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. He thrust into her slowly at first, astonished at the natural amount of resistance and unexpected friction which nearly drove him to come instantaneously. But perhaps you don't know; there was nothing in the pockets. Whatever he wrote he was: he became this or that character, he suffered or prospered equally.
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