She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy. "My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be. I told her it was the end.
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