He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. She could not part with dignity. "Mr. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. "Sir Cecil is no more. Many’s the bullets I’ve dug out of fellows in my time. I dare say it will be chattered about for weeks.
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