“Bad hemorrhage,” he said. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. Do not remain with me. Here, Jem, take the gentleman's horse to the stable—see him dressed and fed directly. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth.
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