"What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. Then he sensed the trap. ’ ‘Nonsense. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. If we do not begin—” She had come to a resolution. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes.
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