He was amused. He was unaware that his illness had opened the way to the inherent conscience and that the acquired had been temporarily blanketed, or that there was any ancient fanaticalism in his blood. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. "You'd have hit it off better if you'd called her The Sow. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. It’s that father of yours you take after, no question.
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