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‘Black shapes crouched, lay, sat between the trees leaning against the trunks, clinging to the earth, half coming out, half effaced within the dim light…’
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‘Sticks, little sticks, were flying about—thick: they were whizzing before my nose, dropping below me, striking behind me against my pilot-house.’
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‘His covering had fallen off, and his body emerged from it pitiful and appalling as from a winding-sheet.’
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‘I am lying here in the dark waiting for death.’
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