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He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. She knew blood was rushing to his face and other places as well. “To tell you the truth, I am a little dull. ‘If you did not want me to talk of it,’ she told him with characteristic insouciance, ‘you should not have mentioned the matter to me. So frightful, indeed, were the ravages of this malady, to which debtors and felons were alike exposed, that its miserable victims were frequently carried out by cart-loads, and thrown into a pit in the burial-ground of Christ-church, without ceremony. The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys. ‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly.
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