. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. He stopped abruptly. Nothing, in short, was too extravagant to be related of it; and Jonathan, who delighted in investing himself and his residence with mystery, encouraged, and perhaps originated, these marvellous tales. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. He may die. . . She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. ” Mr.
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