He had something across his knees. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. Their example was immediately imitated by the officers, constables, javelin men, and other attendants; and nothing was to be heard but shouts of laughter and jesting,—nothing seen but the passing of glasses, and the emptying of foaming jugs. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. It will be a little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself —and I think for you.
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