“Yeah, I know. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. ‘Bête!’ Gerald caught her hand as she pulled it back to deliver another blow.
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