The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. “I never wanted to kick any one so much in my life as that second fellow. ” Part 4 They lay side by side in a shallow nest of turf and mosses among bowlders and stunted bushes on a high rock, and watched the day sky deepen to evening between the vast precipices overhead and looked over the tree-tops down the widening gorge. And I think also that Gosse—I mean that one who calls himself Valade—stole it. She put a stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about beauty. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door.
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