"It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred.
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