I will confide it to Father Spencer, who will acquaint you with it when I am no more. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?” “Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. “To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have never seen either of you before in my life.
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