But her temper almost flared again when the sergeant spoke. Agreeably he helped her take the shirt off. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. She meditated profoundly through several enormous cold hours on all that had happened and all that she had done since the swirl of the suffrage movement had submerged her personal affairs. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. "Mark me," said Jack, sternly; "I have twice broken out of this prison in spite of all your precautions. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship.
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