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Updated: June 21, 2025


"Your back, David!" Mother said in a horrified voice. "Your poor back! What happened to you?" David felt himself. The back of his shirt was ripped to tatters, and there were three lines of caked blood across his shoulders. He remembered now: it was the Gryffon that had tried to grab him as he and the Phoenix made their escape. But he had promised the Phoenix to keep its secret.

"You don't want to send this vessel to sea again," blurted out the chunk. "She ought to go to the dry-dock. Her boats haven't had a brushful of paint for a year; her boilers are caked clear to her top flues, and her pumps won't take care of her bilge water. Charter something else and lay her up." The Manager turned in his revolving chair and faced him.

Prentice brought out a coat and waistcoat of the "pepper-and-salt" pattern which is sold by the hundreds of thousands the whole country over. These the visitor examined carefully. The coat was caked with mud, particularly thick on one shoulder. He called the minister's attention to it. "That would be from lying wet on the shore," said the Reverend Mr. Prentice. "Not at all. This is mud, not sand.

He was digging into the caked dirt inside the hoof with his pocketknife, and, though Evadna waited while she might have spoken a dozen words, he paid not the slightest attention and that in spite of the distinct shadow of her head and shoulders which lay at his feet. "Oh Grant," she began perfunctorily, "I'm sorry to trouble you but do you happen to have an empty pocket?"

"There's a bit of a river runs off here, sir, to the right," said one of the men, nodding to his left, where there was an opening in a patch of forest which came down to the river, with fine timber trees overhanging the muddy banks, and their branches every here and there showing dead grass and reeds caked with mud, as if at times this part of the country was deeply flooded.

The boots and leggings he wore were caked with mud, and his coat had little torn ends of wool sticking up over it, as if he had been walking blindly ahead, careless of direction, and had forced his way through thickets of bramble rather than turn aside to seek an easier path. "What have you been doing with yourself?" she asked rather breathlessly.

Lorraine and Jack sprang to the road from opposite sides of the vehicle; Georges' drawn face was stretched into an attempt at a smile which was ghastly, for the stiff, black blood that had caked in a dripping ridge from his forehead to his chin cracked and grew moist and scarlet, and his hollow cheeks whitened under the coat of dust.

He saw other men drop; he saw Teddy Butson parallel with him on the far ladder, and mounting with him step for step now earlier, now later, but level with him most of the time. They would meet at the embrasure; find together whatever waited for them there. Nat was sobbing by this time sweat and tears together running down the caked blood on his cheek but he did not know it.

Sickness alone drew men away. The soil was dark red, caked and crumbling. Here and there the dead were buried into the parados, with such inscriptions as "Sacred to the Memory of an Unknown Comrade. The Mule Sap connected the trenches with Headquarters. We gathered curios, Turkish and German, from among its débris.

Their legs were caked inches thick in mud, and it was only by a tremendous effort that they were able to lift their feet as they walked. They were pushing their cycles; the mud was caked thick between the wheels and the mudguards forming in itself a brake on the tyres. Fagged out as they obviously were they tried to smile at the reply one made.

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