She recalled him. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. ‘If you shoot me,’ Gerald said quickly, throwing out a hand, ‘I shan’t be able to rescue you. ” A little blond creature close at hand suddenly gave way to a fit of hysterical laughter, and caught up the end of it with a sob. Ennison paused by the little gate. There! You are trying to take your hand away.
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