Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. ‘Rather thought I’d have to disarm you when you heard of it. He rose, steadied himself, then walked out of the dining room. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink.
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