‘And all to help me. ’ The crack in the iron front widened a little, and the general was obliged to clamp his jaws tight against the rise of a pain too well remembered. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. They had not to tarry long. And the woollen-draper departed.
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