By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. Her eyes quizzed the major. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. “If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, “I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life.
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