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The Flying Legion by George Allan England
page 28 of 477 (05%)
thrust out into the currents of activity, to feel the tightening of
authority, the lure and tang of the unknown.

Facing them from the end of the table, the Master stood and spoke
to them, with Bohannan seated at his right. His face reflected quite
another humor from that of the night, a week before, when first this
inspiration had come upon him.

He seemed refreshed, buoyant, rejuvenated. His eyes showed fire. His
brows, that had frowned, now had smoothed themselves. His lips smiled,
though gravely. His color had deepened. His whole personality, that
had been sad and tired, now had become inspired with a profound and
soul-felt happiness.

"Gentlemen all, soldiers and good men," said he, slowly. "In a general
way you know the purpose of this meeting. I am not given to oratory. I
do not intend making any speech to you.

"We are all ex-fighters. Life, once filled with daring and adventure,
has become stale, flat, and unprofitable. The dull routine of business
and of social life is Dead Sea fruit to our lips--dust and ashes. It
cannot hold or entertain us.

"By this I do not mean that war is good, or peace bad. For the vast
majority of men, peace is normal and right. But there must be always
a small minority that cannot tolerate ennui; that must seek risks and
daring exploits; that would rather lay down their lives, today, in
some man-sized exploit, than live twenty-five years longer in the dull
security of a humdrum rut.

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