The carpenter did not hesitate a moment. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. The air was pungent and leaden. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour.
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