The lad looked alarmed. "By G—! she has missed her footing. She moved forward almost indiscernibly, a millimeter. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. That, I think, is manifest. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then. At least one of them was caught and put away.
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