He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. But the current rumblings of internal discontent across the Channel were productive of unease in certain quarters. Of his own certain knowledge he could tell them that. " "Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with startling eagerness. " "And I'm glad your worship's recognition doesn't come too late," observed the Master. Lucy entered the room. More importantly, she had her wits. "Rather in the way. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known.
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