She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. I found him lying like this, the bleeding partly stopped by this scarf, else he had been dead by now. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. She’s got a great imagination. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train.
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