"That'll teach you to keep a civil tongue in your head for the future," observed Thames, as he helped Jack to his feet. " "That, alone, ought to have prevented you from acting as you did, Jack," returned Thames, gravely. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. Someone, it appeared, was trying to profit from that fact. “For great passions, for great accomplishments.
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