’ ‘Only in hot blood, eh?’ grinned Gerald. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. Q. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle.
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