His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. "Well, you women are forgiving creatures, I must say," observed Jonathan, sarcastically. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. ’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. “I’ve been through all that,” she went on, after a pause.
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