No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. “No. Gradually McClintock shifted the burden to Spurlock's shoulders and retired among his books and music rolls. You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. " "To be sure he is," acquiesced Blueskin.
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