“I didn’t understand, Vee. In the afternoon my brain and fingers leap to their work because you have been with me. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. I die happy—quite happy in beholding you. White became conscious of a distinct sense of uneasiness, and showed it in her face. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then.
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