Before he had crossed the garden his mouth was dry again. He picked two
oranges. It was only after shutting the gate after him that he felt a
slight faintness.
He staggered on, disregarding it, and after going a few yards regained
the command of his legs. In the colourless and pellucid dawn the wood
of pines detached its columns of trunks and its dark green canopy very
clearly against the rocks of the grey hillside. He kept his eyes fixed
on it steadily, and sucked at an orange as he walked. That temperamental
good-humoured coolness in the face of danger which had made him an
officer liked by his men and appreciated by his superiors was gradually
asserting itself. It was like going into battle. Arriving at the edge of
the wood he sat down on a boulder, holding the other orange in his hand,
and reproached himself for coming so ridiculously early on the ground.
Before very long, however, he heard the swishing of bushes, footsteps
on the hard ground, and the sounds of a disjointed, loud conversation. A
voice somewhere behind him said boastfully, "He's game for my bag.
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