It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. It was that somebody had cheated you. He only laughed his defiance. Kind of knows it, too. As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps one talks nonsense about a woman’s instinct,” she said. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. Her head ached with a hollow pain.
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