“Annabel at last,” he shouted. . ” “I borrowed it,” said Ann Veronica in a casual tone, with white despair in her heart. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. '" "No, we can't stand that," hiccupped Smith, scarcely able to keep his legs. “If you think it worth while,” she answered doubtfully. Her lips parted, but no words came. Piercing through every crevice in the clothes, it, in some cases, tore them from the wearer's limbs, or from his grasp. I can’t stand it. ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively.
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