Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. They clapped wildly afterward. “I MUST speak to you,” he said. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon.
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