With astonishment, Gerald saw a rheumy film rimming his old commander’s eyes. " "No; it is only—what shall I say?—troubled. Or felt it. ” She hesitated and looked for a moment straight into his eyes. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. She was recalling the circumstances under which she had engaged herself to Manning, and trying to understand a curious development of the quality of this relationship. Among his books, Plutarch's Lives, and the Histories of Great Commanders, appeared to have been frequently consulted; but the dust had gathered thickly upon the Carpenter's Manual, and a Treatise on Trigonometry and Geometry. She followed the official back into his room. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. You haven't heard my side if it, Hoddy.
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