“How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. “Won’t you have some more tea, Mr. Age is set, impervious to innovations.
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