‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. “Certainly I was a little way off at the café, and she had a hat and veil on, but I could have sworn that it was ‘Alcide. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. He turned back at once. He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be.
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