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with a cold compress on the top of his head, he
looked very old and feeble, there was a vacant
expression in his eyes I had never seen before.
“Did she smile?” I asked him.
He shuddered as he stretched his hand towards
his brandy and soda.
“Did you notice the long black hook on her
thumb nail, like the hook of a bat?”
He grew pale and wiped the perspiration from
his forehead.
“What shall I do,” I said dejectedly, my head
between my two hands.
“There is only one possible escape for you,”
answered the colonel in a weak voice, “get
married or you will take to drink.”
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