EPOCH THE THIRD. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. You think you love this other man! No doubt you do love him. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end.
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