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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"The Burning Spear"

"
"Did his dog bite you?" muttered the nephew. "No," said the doctor
absently. "I wish to heaven everyone held his views. So long. I must be
getting on." And they parted.
But Mr. Lavender, after pacing the room six times, had sat down again in
his chair, with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, such as other
men feel on mornings after a debauch.


XIII
ADDRESSES SOME SOLDIERS ON THEIR FUTURE
On pleasant afternoons Mr. Lavender would often take his seat on one of
the benches which adorned the Spaniard's Road to enjoy the beams of the
sun and the towers of the City confused in smoky distance. And strolling
forth with Blink on the afternoon of the day on which the doctor had
come to see him he sat down to read a periodical, which enjoined
on everyone the necessity of taking the utmost interest in soldiers
disabled by the war. "Yes," he thought, "it is indeed our duty to force
them, no matter what their disablements, to continue and surpass the
heroism they displayed out there, and become superior to what they once
were." And it seemed to him a distinct dispensation of Providence when
the rest of his bench was suddenly occupied by three soldiers in the
blue garments and red ties of hospital life.


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