F. What a pity! But why? There was no way over this puzzle, nor under it, nor around it: that men should drink, knowing the inevitable payment. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. ‘I suppose you think I can’t manage it myself,’ had complained Captain Roding sarcastically. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. ’ Then I kicked him until he was black and blue.
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