But the general was turning on him, the hint of emotion wiped from his lined features. His arm fell to his side. ‘I think,’ he said pleasantly, ‘that it would be as well if you, Hilary, were to go and fetch the troops. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient. "Vot are you?" "Practising patience," growled Abraham. We’d soon cool that temper of yours. Of course, I don't believe she's what you would call flush. ‘Oh, peste.
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