So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. But it is no longer necessary. From the sounds of it, he was better off dead. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. “Okay. I can keep you. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works 1. Go to it; and the best of luck!" He went out.
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