The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. " "Perhaps he is from Lord Derwentwater, or Mr. ‘Oh, famous. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. "I dare not, Rowland," she answered. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. ‘Precisely,’ agreed Gerald.
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