. She saw his eyes glaze over. . Beneath the shelf, containing these books, hung the fine old ballad of 'St. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid. Then he did give way a bit. It is not for myself I fear. ‘I knowed he were a wrong ’un, but that.
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