"See her I will. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. Little by little, she stopped hating him.
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