The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. . What a mercy that the blow aimed at her by the ruffian, Wild, though it brought her to the brink of the grave, should have restored her to reason! Ah! she stirs. Yet the thing hidden within her called and called.
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