“No, he grabbed my hand. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter. There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. Perhaps in two or three weeks.
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