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He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. How fortunate that she recognises the resemblance. Sheppard," said Thames. He liked to draw her in, and she did her best to talk. “Then turn round and go back there,” she directed. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place.
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