It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Bitte!. Some day I may forgive you; but not now. Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. I certainly didn’t mean to kiss you. Borne along by the current, Darrell was instantly at the boat's side.
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