The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. Presently he turned to Courtlaw. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch.
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