“Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily. The inn was a military haunt. ’ He moved to his friend and grasped his hand in a gesture as deliberately dramatic as the storytelling of mademoiselle. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother.
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