She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. The water was cold but she waded deeper. ‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly. Probably he has something to say and can't say it, or he writes well about nothing. Another day of nonsuccess would mean many disagreeable things. ‘I, on the other hand, want to help you to marry this Englishman. "It's a mercy you both escaped!" ejaculated Wood, only just finding his tongue.
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