Now he thought she was so foolish that she knew only one stroke. It's my way when I'm ruffled. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. She laughed a little contemptuously.
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