" "Loves!" echoed Winifred, slightly colouring. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. ‘Then open it quickly.
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