White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. I can. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. Down in my part of the world it's all a man has to go by.
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