” She sat very still. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. But I have remembered the horse and have asked this sergeant that a soldier fetch him. So it does.
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