The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips.
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