’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest. Unless they remind him now and then not to. ‘Bête!’ Gerald caught her hand as she pulled it back to deliver another blow. ” “Right,” he answered. " "What!" exclaimed Mrs.
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