All at once she realised that Kimble had halted, leaning heavily against the wall. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. "Good-bye, young man; and good luck. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course.
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