Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. The evenings were dulcet and soft. There’s a great gulf opened, and nobody’s got any plans what to do with us. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. “May I sit beside you?” “It’s a very difficult one,” said her aunt. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. The inn was a military haunt.
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