To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. The iron slipped from his face, leaving it blank with astonishment.
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