‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. " "More blood! more blood!" cried Trenchard, passing his hand with agony across his brow. “Gellett,” he called, “just come and clear up a mess, will you? I’ve smashed some things. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest.
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