Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. “I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley.
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