"Poor Mrs. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch.
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