"I do not drink wine." "You must break the pledge whilst you are here, Miss Deane.

It is often very cold at night in this latitude.

A chill would mean fever and perhaps death." "What a strange man!" murmured the girl.
She covertly watched his preparations.

He tore a dry leaf from a notebook and broke the bullet out of a cartridge, damping the powder with water from a pitcher-plant.

Smearing the composition on the paper, he placed it in the sun, where it dried at once.