CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. —I do not congratulate you on your success. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. “I am too much in earnest,” he answered, “to be able to take this matter lightly. She was no longer there.
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