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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

She went fast asleep the minute she had finished."
"I know something of that complaint. She's been living on sausages, I suppose.
Torp, you should have handed her over to a policeman for presuming to faint in
a respectable house. Poor little wretch! Look at the face! There isn't an ounce
of immorality in it. Only folly,--slack, fatuous, feeble, futile folly. It's a
typical head. D'you notice how the skull begins to show through the flesh
padding on the face and cheek-bone?"
"What a cold-blooded barbarian it is! Don't hit a woman when she's down. Can't
we do anything? She was simply dropping with starvation. She almost fell into
my arms, and when she got to the food she ate like a wild beast. It was
horrible."
"I can give her money, which she would probably spend in drinks. Is she going
to sleep for ever?"
The girl opened her eyes and glared at the men between terror and effrontery.
"Feeling better?" said Torpenhow.
"Yes. Thank you. There aren't many gentlemen that are as kind as you are. Thank
you."
"When did you leave service?" said Dick, who had been watching the scarred and
chapped hands.
"How did you know I was in service? I was. General servant. I didn't like it."
"And how do you like being your own mistress?"
"Do I look as if I liked it?"
"I suppose not.


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