Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child.
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