And now she had sent Jack away. Drink the toast, Jack. And there arose too, a background of shouts. ” “But it’s about other things. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. Go away now, there’s a good lad. ” Her reverie broke, and she found herself still in front of the looking glass, a barrette hanging loosely from her hair. Many of the soldiers dismounted, and called for drink.
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