Sheppard. "Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. ’ ‘Lucky indeed,’ answered Gerald, glancing at the pair again. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. ” “Not now. ‘Poor Hilary. I waited for her at the back. His shouts for help were answered by roars of mockery and laughter. The funeral, it has just been said, took place on that day.
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