His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. He had often read about it, and once he had incorporated it in a story, that invisible force which sent men to prison and to the gallows, when a tongue controlled would have meant liberty indefinite. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. \"It's getting late John. ’ He sighed. ‘Civilian peace-keeping forces, you know. ‘André? Que dit-il?’ ‘My wife does not understand,’ said the fellow, frowning deeply. His tone was kind and sympathetic. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food.
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