She knew very well that a new thing was stirring in her. His smile faded. You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. “You don’t want to go?” “No. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. It's only right that his people should know where he is and what has happened to him.
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