CHAPTER XXIX. Supper was spaghetti and Italian sausage that night. “Is this a concession to Mrs. "I suppose I must have been senseless for some time; for, on coming to myself, I found this gash in my head, and the ground covered with blood. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. “Fighting goes with loads of its own baggage, John. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question.
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