’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. ” And she pressed her lips together in white resolution and nodded, and she was manifestly full of that same passion for conflict and selfsacrifice that has given the world martyrs since the beginning of things. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. A few seconds sufficed to clear the passage, through which it had previously cost him more than two hours to force his way. Voilà tout. Such pretty manners, she thought. Men usually do. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air.
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