’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. She confronted him with his own double-standard. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. He encouraged her to join him in his debauchery. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. He said that his life was boring and stupid without her. “Shari told me. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
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