” “You know,” he said with some hesitation, “that your sister is singing. It shall never be said that I raised my arm willingly against a woman. Like a petulant child he snapped. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. The thought of them distressed her without subtracting at all from the oceans of happiness in which she swam. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War.
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