Mrs. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. “But your sister?” he asked. 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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