She was definitely following him. I’ll be waiting for you outside. I will not be persecuted in this way by you. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. ’ ‘That,’ said Gosse, ‘is a matter of opinion. She isn't used to cities.
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