‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. " "Heaven have compassion on you, Rowland!" murmured his sister, crossing her hands and looking upwards; "you have none on me. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. ‘Dear me. She is no more English than that set of beggars over there.
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