" Nor was this all. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. ‘Hilary!’ The captain appeared, alert at the note in his major’s voice as Gerald had known he would be. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. I want to be myself. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. The likeness was ridiculous.
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