She almost submitted to this ending of her adventure. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. She had become unashamed of her nudity, altogether unfocused on her appearance. For a time she promenaded the room. ‘I have only borrowed it. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman.
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