Even as she watched, the sweat of weakness began to form on his forehead and under the nether lip. He is an awfully good sort— and now he has come to me to help him if I can. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. “I would give my life for you. Acting upon this humane determination, he impelled himself slowly backwards,—for he did not dare to face the blast,—and with incredible labour and fatigue reached the crevice.
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