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’ ‘What, a common soldier?’ ‘He was not a common soldier. “I say, Vee. "Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup. "I'll be their substitute. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. ’ About to hurry from the little parlour, Melusine remembered Mrs Ibstock.
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