There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. The fresh air, which blew in his face, greatly revived him. Sections and pages had been pasted together, and all through both Testaments a word had been blotted out. Suspicion was in his face. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Was the man debating whether or no to tell the truth? A grimace played about Valade’s mouth and the general waited, maintaining his own rigid pose. He deserves none.
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