Laughter wrenched at him that he should be a hero to them now. They were jackasses and schoolboys; either they saw that the men who had been killed might have been themselves, which made their own miserable lives more precious and engendered gratitude for the increase of value, or else they imagined themselves doing the shooting—and killing made a fellow quite a man, it made his whisky taste better and gave him a brag with the tommies at the French Palace.
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