The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. ” “Why?” she asked. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. " "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. That is why I am here. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. ” She laughed.
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