He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. He understood. " "Is he alive!" vociferated Trenchard. For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class. ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone. "I'll make sure work this time," he added, about to repeat the blow. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me.
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