In military circles, highly exaggerated tales of Major Alderley’s derring-do were bruited from lip to lip and passed on to raw recruits to strengthen morale. I am your servitor. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. The next morning came a compact letter from her father. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly.
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