The Ragged Edge. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. A fever of shame ran through her being. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening. All RNs were familiar with blood stains. Hitherto in the world’s history there had been precursors of this Progress at great intervals, voices that had spoken and ceased, but now it was all coming on together in a rush. When the bell rang, she lagged behind as was her habit.
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