Yes, of course. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her. I struck him across the face, twisted the steering wheel of the motor, sprang out myself, and left him for dead on the road with the motor on top of him. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. He, who had faced the gale, would have been instantly stifled. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil.
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