“Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. "Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup. " Spurlock lowered his voice. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. It throbs cruelly. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. The hard work will be his, until we yank this young fellow back from the brink.
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