So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. Maggot. Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task. But you couldn't.
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