Borne along by the current, Darrell was instantly at the boat's side. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. “Delicious!” she murmured. “Dear John,” she whispered. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. Doesn’t matter a bit to me. ToC Mrs.
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