They were all playing cards in a half finished bomb-proof.

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Mother, you _will_ write to Camilla, won't you, dear?
Good-bye--good-bye, Phil--and Miss Lynden!" He caught his mother in his arms for a last hug, wrenched himself free, and ran back across the hall, bayonet and canteen clanking.
"Oh, why are they sending Curt's regiment across the river ?" wailed Celia, following to the window.