F. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. " "Let me have a glass of brandy," said he, addressing the host.
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