Even this man had accepted her for “Alcide” without a moment’s question. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. Nothing. ‘Gone!’ he said. Maggot. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. His food lay untouched about his plate. I’m a soldier, you see.
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