“Stop!” He ran towards her. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. ‘Gérard is not mad, only of a disposition entirely interfering. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. The mere fact that he was there in the train alongside her, helping her, sitting opposite to her in the dining-car, presently sleeping on a seat within a yard of her, made her heart sing until she was afraid their fellow passengers would hear it.
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