“You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. He thought rationally; that is to say, he thought clearly, as a child thinks clearly. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. Melusine giggled, and tucked her hand into his.
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