t imes, managing finally to pull tin ahe dark face.

    “e , for he sapper asks.

    hem.

    Kip peers into t anothe room.

    the bed.

    “Kip and I are boternational bastards—born in one place and co live elseo get back to or get a yet. t’s ogetcabs t, o the bedroom.

    “You must  suck it out t . I learned everyt ever o me t ant .”  hana.

    “One feeds me morp!” urns back to Kip.

    “how long have you been a sapper?” “Five years.

    Mostly in  London.

    taly.

    its.” “eacric.” “t kind of teac must  Miss Morden?” “Yes.” At no point does eittempt to make able in tion. But ss to kno eacher, and how he would describe him.

    “ . Miss Morden, ary, s. Miss Morden ake notes, ed as s ruments.  man. trinity. them, in

    At Erit t t up so t is against a painted buso interpret.

    Some men  knot of life in oo discover tona stes to topped inued ies o emotionally disturbed tons.

    Sc tral look on .