“You will come back, won’t you?” He nodded cheerfully. "Winifred Wood will never marry, unless the grave can give up its dead. It was better even than the hymn-singing. He smiled. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow.
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