“Stay where you are for a moment,” she directed. “I do not know. Can’t ask the gent to go abroad and condone a bigamy. "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. She reached the station, and mingling with a crowd of excursionists who had come from the river on the other side, took her place in the train unnoticed. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. " "Go, Sir," rejoined the knight, haughtily.
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