“I will send you a copy,” Mr. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. A jolly night we made of it, as you may suppose; for four such monarchs don't often come together. “Very likely,” he answered. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards.
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