A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible. The rest of his attire was nondescript. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. ’ ‘I’m not going to release you, so it’s no use complaining.
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