’ She shook her head. ’ ‘You,’ announced the lady, throwing an explosive glare at the captain, ‘are a person entirely without sense. ” “Don’t be foolish,” he said sharply. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. They had as many designations as grades.
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