“You are very good,” she said. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. ” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. Why, he can scarcely be twenty. Don’t leave me. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. ’ ‘Yes, and leave you to break in on your own.
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