If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. . " "And so Sir Rowland murdered his friend," remarked Wood. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. Go quickly and call him. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country.
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