The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect. “I never wanted to kick any one so much in my life as that second fellow. Well, let's beat it to the hotel. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. Would Gerald wish his friend to follow the man? He had hardly registered the decision that he had best do so, albeit with some reluctance, when his trained senses alerted him to an extraordinary circumstance. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. Listening attentively, he fancied he heard the breathing of some one near him, and moved cautiously in the opposite direction. A piece of seaweed touched her hand, tender and green. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors.
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