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  <title>Item Dublin Core</title>
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  <updated>2026-04-04T02:47:55+01:00</updated>
  <author>
    <name>admin</name>
    <email>niwa@bt48.com</email>
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  <entry>
    <id>948</id>
    <title>Lingard103</title>
    <updated>Tuesday, September 6, 2016 - 10:51</updated>
    <link href="https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/node/%25/atom"/>
    <collections>Chapter 11</collections>
    <contributor>Lingard Estate</contributor>
    <coverage>1972</coverage>
    <creator>Linen Hall Library</creator>
    <date>Thursday, March 10, 2016</date>
    <format>TIFF</format>
    <identifier>Lingard103</identifier>
    <itemdescription>Manuscript</itemdescription>
    <keywords>Accident, Watch</keywords>
    <language>English</language>
    <path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/lingard103</path>
    <publisher>Linen Hall Library</publisher>
    <relation>Linen Hall Library</relation>
    <rights>Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA</rights>
    <scannedimage>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Lingard103_1.jpg</scannedimage>
    <source>LHL Archive</source>
    <transcript>﻿95

The man&#039;s face swam out of focus as if it was drifting under water.
Kevin blinked, took another deep breath and steadied himself against
the tree. The man put his handdel&gt; arms round him.

&quot;You&#039;re not all right, are you? Come on, I&#039;m going to take you
home.&quot;

&quot;No.2&quot;

&quot;Where do you live? I have a car just along the street.&quot;

Kevin shook his head. &quot;Let me sit down,&quot; he said weakly.

He slid down to the ground and sat with his head resting against
the bark of the tree. He felt a bit better now. He could see the
man&#039;s face clearly again: concernedvery bright blue eyes looking at him with concern, creased forehead,
a neat little moustache. The man was crouching beside him, and the
dog was still waiting patiently with the stick.

&quot;I think you need a doctor.&quot;

&quot;I&#039;m just weak. I had an accident, you see, last night.&quot;

&quot;I don&#039;t like leaving you here like this.&quot; The man shook his head.

&quot;I&#039;m waiting for someone. What time is it?&quot;

The man looked at his swatch. &quot;Twenty past sevenTen to eight&quot;

&quot;Twenty past?Ten to eight?&quot;

&quot;Is she late then?&quot; The man smiled a little.

Kevin nodded.

&quot;Maybe she won&#039;t come.&quot;

&quot;She&#039;ll come.&quot;

&quot;You sound pretty sure.&quot;

&quot;Well, I know her.&quot;
</transcript>
    <type>Text</type>
    <updateddate>Tuesday, September 6, 2016 - 10:51</updateddate>
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