She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. “Was I that bad?” He asked. ’ ‘They wear a uniform, do they not? They march and fight with swords and shoot with guns, no?’ ‘Well, yes, miss. “It was perhaps my fault. Pull yourself together now. “I want to ask you a question,” he said. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. A sacrifice. It had been a very long time. Sheppard looked round, and exchanged kindly glances with several of those who addressed him.
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