But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. ‘Be quiet, man,’ snapped Hilary, watching the Frenchman go by with the lad after him. “You pushed the wheel from my hand. I’m sorry. The doors of several of the wards were thrown open for these parties, and as Jack passed, he could not help glancing at the wretched inmates. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. Never any doubt of it. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony.
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