The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. There was a great splash of blood upon it, her hand was all wet and sticky. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. "How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. "I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday. No one ate with as much passionate gusto as a teenager could.
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