Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. ” “Of course you’re converted?” she said. Here and there, a rectangular patch, darker than the rest, showed that some had been removed. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. I don’t quite know why. Hurry. “Why should it matter?” he said. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. " "So do I," replied Ruth.
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