From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. You will wonder why he did not hold the pearls until Father returned.
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