A creeping numbness invaded her. She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat. In truth, she had been quite glad to lose the argument about remaining while the bullet was dug out of Jack’s side. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again. The latter formed by far the most knavish-looking and unprepossessing portion of the assemblage. No, none at all. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. It was hard to meet that gaze. " "I am sorry. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes.
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