Vite, I pray you. “What are you doing?” He cried. . Was she so fearful still? Roding shrugged and grimaced. He was not there. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later.
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