‘There you have soldiers. There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. "Don't think to deceive me by your false pretences. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. He chuckled. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time.
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