|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmecx

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was obliged to shut them like a woman about to faint.
The effect this produced upon Lingard was such that she felt the
tightening of his arm and as she opened her eyes again some of
the colour returned to her face. She met the deepened expression
of his solicitude with a look so steady, with a gaze that in
spite of herself was so profoundly vivid that its clearness
seemed to Lingard to throw all his past life into shade.--"I
don't feel faint. It isn't that at all," she declared in a
perfectly calm voice. It seemed to Lingard as cold as ice.
"Very well," he agreed with a resigned smile. "But you just catch
hold of that rail, please, before I let you go." She, too, forced
a smile on her lips.
"What incredulity," she remarked, and for a time made not the
slightest movement. At last, as if making a concession, she
rested the tips of her fingers on the rail. Lingard gradually
removed his arm. "And pray don't look upon me as a conventional
'weak woman' person, the delicate lady of your own conception,"
she said, facing Lingard, with her arm extended to the rail.
"Make that effort please against your own conception of what a
woman like me should be. I am perhaps as strong as you are,
Captain Lingard. I mean it literally. In my body."--"Dyilai：
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On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmbnp