“Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. " Drama. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. ” “I feel so guilty. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance.
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