‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. God, we suck. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. PRIVATE FIRST CLASS “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. ‘You’ll make shadows. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. “But you do not know,” she whispered, “whether I am a married woman or not. ” There was silence between them.
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