And more boys die than girls, so that the real disproportion among adults is even greater. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. Blank it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead.
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