Above her head was an aura of white fire. The piece, in three movements, was short enough anyway. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. ‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy. A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. I was standing near Jack at that awful moment, and beheld the look Wild fixed on him. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. " And he tossed it carelessly into the bottom of the boat.
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