That paper must be signed, or I take my departure. All right really. I am gambling on his intuition. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. ‘Poor things. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features.
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