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The exhilarating cheering and shouting had subsided; the sad after-flavor succeeded the lust of conquest. "Yes," continued the gunner, though the words came with an effort. "First, it was the desert. What a place to roll and rove! I couldn't help it for the life of me! When I was a boy I ran away from school; a lad, I ran away from college! If I had been a sailor I would have deserted the ship.
But as an after-flavor there lingered for Imogen, like a faint, flat bitterness after the incense, a suspicion that Mary, in wafting her censer with such energy, had been seeking to fill her own nostrils, also, with the sacred old aroma, to find, as well as give, the intoxication of faith. "Sir Basil!" Valeria exclaimed. She rose from the tea-table, where she and Jack and Mrs.
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