"Be still, and you'll receive no injury," returned Jackson. Wood, furiously. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. "Yes," replied Jack.
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