She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he did not despair of success. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. “How’s the star?” John’s father asked. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents.
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