She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. But that was all over. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. . She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. She was silent. They had not so far been of much personal interest to Gerald, but tonight was different.
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