Chapter 24

           NowthemorningwaslateMay,theskywashighandclearandthewindblewwarmonRobertJordan’sshoulders.Thesnowwasgoingfastandtheywereeatingbreakfast.Thereweretwobigsandwichesofmeatandthegoatycheeseapiece,andRobertJordanhadcutthickslicesofonionwithhisclaspknifeandputthemoneachsideofthemeatandcheesebetweenthechunksofbread.

           "Youwillhaveabreaththatwillcarrythroughtheforesttothefascists,"Agustínsaid,hisownmouthfull.

           "GivemethewineskinandIwillrinsethemouth,"RobertJordansaid,hismouthfullofmeat,cheese,onionandchewedbread.

           Hehadneverbeenhungrierandhefilledhismouthwithwine,faintlytarry-tastingfromtheleatherbag,andswallowed.Thenhetookanotherbigmouthfulofwine,liftingthebaguptoletthejetofwinespurtintothebackofhismouth,thewineskintouchingtheneedlesoftheblindofpinebranchesthatcoveredtheautomaticrifleasheliftedhishand,hisheadleaningagainstthepinebranchesashebentitbacktoletthewinerundown.

           "Dostthouwantthisothersandwich?"Agustínaskedhim,handingittowardhimacrossthegun.

           "No.Thankyou.Eatit."

           "Icannot.Iamnotaccustomedtoeatinthemorning."

           "Youdonotwantit,truly?"

           "Nay.Takeit."

           RobertJordantookitandlaiditonhislapwhilehegottheonionoutofhissidejacketpocketwherethegrenadeswereandopenedhisknifetosliceit.Hecutoffathinsliverofthesurfacethathaddirtiedinhispocket,thencutathickslice.

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