“There is a secret. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. Well, kill me. . A row of magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their broad arms over this pleasant spot. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed.
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