Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. One of those hanging moments ensued— hypnotic. ’ Gerald eyed her. "And now," cried Jack, leaping up, "for an achievement, compared with which all I have yet done shall be as nothing!" CHAPTER XVII. My people don’t know what to do. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars.
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