Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. The four tourists contributed varied sums: the spinsters ten cents each, the girl a shilling, the young man a Mexican dollar. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. Her lips parted, but no words came. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground. “There I can’t help,” said Capes.
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