“This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. 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. "You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here. “Yes, John.
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