She had slapped him away with her free hand and the finger was released suddenly, sending her careening to the floor. There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue. You’ve got me. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains.
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