"Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. That is my way, my dear. To them all I am nothing. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. ’ Martha got up with a swish of her black habit. The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue.
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