With this view, he descended the hill and presently found a footpath leading to the church. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. She galloped up the small stairs, hearing that Shari had finally risen. "His wife is still living," returned Kneebone, drily. "I have a token to deliver to you," continued the stranger, addressing her. She was carefree.
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