She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. "Enough!" exclaimed Wild, triumphantly.
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