She will sail, at early dawn to-morrow, for Rotterdam. She was weeping now. ***** The general office was an extension of the west wing of the McClintock bungalow. There was a very white-faced youngster of eighteen who brushed back his hair exactly in Russell’s manner, and was disposed to be uncomfortably silent when he was near her, and to whom she felt it was only Christian kindness to be consistently pleasant; and a lax young man of five-and-twenty in navy blue, who mingled Marx and Bebel with the more orthodox gods of the biological pantheon. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank.
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