A sacrifice. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. "Well?" he whispered. ‘But―but how can he know?’ His soldier’s instinct overtook Gerald and he dropped all his insouciance in a bang, becoming brisk. Gerald closed the door and released Melusine, and then went to open the shutters on a window that faced the side of the house. "He has undertaken to finish this job by six o'clock, and I wish to see whether he'll be as good as his word. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold.
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