Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. "Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. Alas! that the punishment of his offences should fall on her head. ‘She is constantly thinking of you,’ I said. "A sail?" said McClintock.
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