When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. ” “Oh, it wasn’t that. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes.
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