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The Times slipped from his fingers. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. ” She spoke rather quickly, because she found her father’s question the most awkward she had ever had to answer in her life. My only excuse is that I missed my way here, and I am leaving Paris early to-morrow morning. This fall saved him, for the horsemen passed over him. ” She had a moment of sheer panic at the thing she had done. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter.
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