Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. "No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. "It must look sharp then, or I shall give it the slip," laughed Ben: "the gale never yet blowed as could perwent my crossing the Thames. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains.
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