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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"She"

This done, he
got my travelling dressing-case out of the Gladstone bag, and opened it
ready for my use. First he stood it on the foot of the couch also, then,
being afraid, I suppose, that I should kick it off, he placed it on a
leopard skin on the floor, and stood back a step or two to observe the
effect. It was not satisfactory, so he shut up the bag, turned it on
end, and, having rested it against the foot of the couch, placed the
dressing-case on it. Next he looked at the pots full of water, which
constituted our washing apparatus. "Ah!" I heard him murmur, "no hot
water in this beastly place. I suppose these poor creatures only use it
to boil each other in," and he sighed deeply.
"What is the matter, Job?" I said.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said, touching his hair. "I thought you were
asleep, sir; and I am sure you seem as though you want it. One might
think from the look of you that you had been having a night of it."
I only groaned by way of answer. I had, indeed, been having a night of
it, such as I hope never to have again.


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