” He writhed. "I could not make him understand. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. The occasion is worth a dash of the grape, lad. They were filthy after the burial. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. It was a unique experience for her to wash him. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside.
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