The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. "Help! help!" "You call in vain," returned Kneebone.
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