She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. The major might not indulge in this sort of flirtation in the ordinary way, but he had seen enough among his army colleagues to know just how to go about it. “I came directly I was disengaged,” Anna answered. She felt she must suffocate if these men did not put her down, and for a time they would not put her down. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief.
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