Sections and pages had been pasted together, and all through both Testaments a word had been blotted out. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. “‘Go it, missie,’ they said; “kick aht!’ “I swore at that policeman—and disgusted him. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. Was the man debating whether or no to tell the truth? A grimace played about Valade’s mouth and the general waited, maintaining his own rigid pose.
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