” He smiled bitterly as he handed her from the cab. I thought that Hill was dead, but I was frightened, and I wanted to get away from Paris. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. After that night she made it a habit. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground.
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