“NOW!” said Ann Veronica. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. “I’ll turn you here. But those days are over—quite over. The sword, Jacques. 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.
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