"Here we part,—perhaps for ever. Perhaps I deceived you about it. “Thank you,” she said coolly. She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. I'll wait here. It is not at all comme il faut. Where I am in error, you can set me right. ’ Gerald opened his eyes at her. I'll lay my life he's gone. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede.
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