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She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. Wood; but they never come now. But it is no longer necessary. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. ’ ‘Gad, but she’s a beauty,’ gasped Hilary, and slammed his sword back in its scabbard. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. Then for a time she sat very still. "What shall I do? If I persist, I shall destroy her. ‘Of course the fellow has doubtless stayed put to wait for you,’ retorted Hilary.
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