" "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone.
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