It was dangerous for her to dare approaching him and she knew the tremendous risk she was taking, but a part of her demanded that he be found. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. Catching hold of his chin, he bent back the neck, while with his left hand he pulled out a clasp knife, which he opened with his teeth, and grasping Wild's head with his arm, notwithstanding his resistance, cut deeply into his throat. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. But at least it gave her more time.
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