” He snarled. It slipped out—as did that “she”. “It is not possible,” he exclaimed. This too shall pass. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. But to draw the attention of the milice, no, that is not at all desirable. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less.
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