" Trenchard took up a pen. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. . She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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