“I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. She flew to the door, but returned the next minute, looking deeply disappointed, and bringing the intelligence that it was "only Mrs. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. These were yarns! As he was about to slip the manuscripts into the envelope, something caught his eye: by Howard Spurlock. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. I can. Because of the thought of love and companionship? No. Gerald crossed back to the window.
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