There was a gentle rustling of skirts. There came to Spurlock the recurrence of the grim resolution of what he had set out to do: that comradeship was all he might ever give this exquisite creature; for she was exquisite, and in a way she dominated this picture of sea and sky and sail. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. He looked at his friend. The third time she escaped she reached the inconsequent barricade of the overturned table. ‘Dare I suppose that to be of her making?’ Gerald flushed.
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