And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. ” “By God!” said Manning, making the most of the word, “I suppose it’s fate. ’ ‘Miss?’ gaped the soldier. “I may not see the Widgetts for some little time, father,” she said. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing.
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