’ The listening soldiers began to snigger behind their hands. She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory. We shall take an eternal farewell of each other. There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. “You poor little girl!” he cried. And now YOU’RE on the war-path. "Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray.
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