She could feel her face turning beet red. She was an Egyptian, from the magical times. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. Perhaps I'd better open it now. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her.
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