The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. " "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. ” The hand lingered too long. Wood, however, was too much excited to attend to the caution.
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