“Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr. But in this posture he fared worse than ever. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. Around her neck was a little gold chain. Having no more patience, I drew you aside to give you a compliment on your radiant beauty.
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