Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. " "Well, imagination beats me!" "It's something Ruth saw. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go.
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