It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. "An American. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. " "Awake!—to be sure I am, my flash cove," replied Sheppard; "I'm down as a hammer. I take it, down where we're going will be nothing new to you. He moved slightly, and she went on, with a slight catching of her breath: “It’s a bother and disturbance, but you see—” She had to go through with it now, because she could think of nothing but her preconceived words. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story.
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